Melancholy: Autumn Daydream
by Rubedo the Crystal Blood
Summary: The Second Episode in a series based off of Just Barely by Cal Reflector. In dreams and twilight we often find ourselves in a climax of pleasure. But when Ichigo and Tatsuki venture into their land of dreams, they find more than happiness over the edge.
1. Prologue: Hazy Daydream

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe _  
_

* * *

_Some Five Weeks Later..._

_Here... where is here? Here is here. We are here... Who are we? We are we. Where are we? We are here... here... where we are..._

_This place... this dream place. It isn't of this world. When we are here, we are united together. When we are here, we are alone and together all at the same time. Omnipresence is both possible and impossible here. Logic and lack of logic make perfect sense here. This is a place where sense is nonexistent..._

_When we come here we are not who we are. We are different, but we are the same. We embrace each other, and embrace ourselves. And when we touch each other, we feel emotions beyond what we would feel in that "other world"..._

_This is our place, and these are our thoughts. And this is our testament to the love that we share. We do not know how long this place has existed, nor do we care. We come here, and never leave this place. We simply go to sleep for a while. And when we are here we sleep in the "other world". And this place is for us alone..._

_Here we can act. Here we can express our deepest desires. Here we can express what we are, and put to words what could not be said in the "other world". Here, we can bare our souls for what they truly are. Here, we "are"..._

_We love this place. We love each other. We love ourselves..._

_"I love you... Tatsuki..."_

_"I love you too... Ichigo..."_

* * *

She was a goddess. Here in this dreamworld that existed solely in their minds, she was truly a goddess. Ichigo smiled to himself, heat surging through his body with each stroke. It was nice here. His skin tingled with electricity. Tatsuki's eyes were closed. She was enjoying the moment. In their physical unity they were no longer Ichigo and Tatsuki. To put it simply, they were "Ichigo and Tatsuki".

"It still shocks me a little..."

"What does...?"

She touched his chest gently, tightening her grip around his waist, her free hand tracing a line along a massive scar in his abdomen. "This place is so different," she murmured quietly, shuddering slightly from the effects of climax. One of her feathers floated down across Ichigo's face. He eyed her magnificent white wings, hand cupped around her breast, "Do you want to go back?" She giggled, nibbling his neck, "Well, the real world is nice too..."

He tilted his head to allow her a kiss, chuckling, "But you like the time we spend here too... right...?" She waited for him to finish his climax, "Did you figure that out from the other conversations we've had?" When he answered her with another mysterious laugh, she squeezed his buttock tightly, "If we know what we're thinking in this world, why bother talking?" The previous times she'd asked him this question, he'd failed to answer her. She figured this time would be the same.

But surprisingly, "Well... it would get boring... don't you think?" She closed her eyes and grinned, "I think I'm getting better at this..."

* * *

"HAAAAAAAAH!" Their cries tore the silence of the house.

Ichigo fell forward and gasped for air, sweat dripping down his chin and onto Tatsuki's glistening breast. She shuddered, the fabric she gripped at below her tearing audibly in her hands. Hot tears oozed out of her eyes and meshed with sweat and saliva. There was a sticky warmth between her legs, both watery and dewy.

Tatsuki gulped, snaking her hands along Ichigo's sweaty back. The hearth of his chest rumbled deeply. He growled seductively, sniffing up the hormonal fumes from her neck. Her legs, which were tightly wrapped around his waist, relaxed and fell to the floor, straightening themselves and cushioning his body.

"How was it...?" she whispered, rotating her waist as if to carry on the stimulation just a little longer. Outside the moon was full. Staring at it evoked a primal aversion in her persona. She reveled in this feeling, using it to catapult her to a new height.

She felt his palm rest against her cheek. She resisted the matching lip that attempted to squeeze between her own, giggling at Ichigo's groan. As if to get back at her, he bit her tongue in its sensitive spot, squeezing her breast again and delighting in her volatile reaction. Very slowly, she felt herself drift closer to sleep. The sandman was probably watching... _Let him watch_, she thought to herself, grinning.

* * *

Yuzu Kurosaki lay on an empty bed. It was empty, because it was not her bed. She did not fit this bed. Therefore, it was empty, because its intended occupant was not in it. She felt her chest throb, and her head split open further. But this pain was not new to her. For some reason it made her feel good... When it surged through her body she felt real, a feeling she had never felt before. As her heart began racing, she buried her face in Ichigo's linens. It had been a while since he had last replaced them. For some reason, she didn't want to do it herself. The very thought of cleansing them suddenly seemed wrong.

Instead, she just wanted to stay like this. Here was where he'd lain his head, and here was where he neck rested. She could identify each part of his bed based on how it smelled. She covered herself in his blankets, her legs trembling for some inexplicable reason as she enveloped herself in his musk. It tingled...

Gradually, and inevitably, she lost her sense of "self". No... she had to stay awake... If Ichigo came home to find her in his bed he would be angry. She didn't like to make Ichigo angry. She liked to make Ichigo smile. Because when Ichigo smiled, she smiled. Yes, Ichigo was better smiling. Ichigo shouldn't frown. When Ichigo frowned, she frowned. She didn't like to frown. Frowning didn't feel good. A person frowned because they were sad. So Ichigo couldn't get angry. Ichigo had to smile. Smile Ichigo... _please_...

"Smile... Please, Ichigo... I want you to... smile... Smile... because I... I..."


	2. Segment I: Casual Green

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

The lingering aftertaste of the morning toast still clung stubbornly to her taste buds. She was sure Ichigo had noticed. "I think they're looking for you," she whispered, arching her back against the walls of the storage shed. "They're probably looking for _you_ too," he bit her neck, sucking up the drops of blood that dribbled down her neck. Tatsuki groaned, not in pain, but in pleasure. Still,

"You really have to stop biting me there..."

"I thought liked it when I did that."

"But people are going to notice," she cooed softly and let her head rock to the side, exposing more skin for him to nibble on, "And it isn't exactly _normal_ either." "Well, nothing about me is normal," he stopped nonetheless,

"But neither are you."

_This_ was an insult. But it was typical of Ichigo. She exhaled slowly and pressed her waist upon his shift, writhing in delight as she reached orgasm. Moments later, she felt something warm and gooey ooze into her body. She licked her lips, actually feeling a crumb. "You're a messy eater, you know that?" he fell still, savoring in the aftershock of their rocking climax. She liked it like this... it was so casual. It was almost natural.

She felt like Tom Sawyer playing hooky. It was very foreign, and yet she was very familiar with it. These were the kind of things you could only experience with a person like Ichigo. And that was one of the many reasons why she'd fallen in love with him. What was the saying she'd heard on television? "Friends with benefits"... That was how this felt. Only she knew Ichigo cared for her in ways she only dared to imagine.

As Tatsuki planted her legs back on the ground she swayed hazily, and Ichigo had to hold her for a moment to allow her to regain her balance. She giggled light-heartedly, kissing his cheek lovingly before picking up her discarded personals from the floor. Ichigo looked out from the window, then peered through a crack in the metal doors. "It looks clear," he said.

* * *

From the top of the building, Mizuiro Kojima watched as a young carrot-topped boy led a similarly young raven-haired girl through the back doors. He chuckled, licking the corner of his front tooth where he could still taste lipstick.

The lunch period was nearly over. Sweat gathered along a shallow wrinkle. Keigo Asano wiped it from his furrowed brow and frowned, "Just where did he go? Hey, Kojima!" he glanced toward Mizuiro, who trotted back from his perch, "So? Did you find'im?" The boy shrugged back with a blank stare, looking back and shaking his head.

"Great... He's here when ya don't need'im and vanishes when he's not supposed to...!" Keigo twirled the stem of a piece of straw between his teeth, "Uh—hey! Gimme that!" His fist flailed forward and grabbed at the chewed-off end. Mizuiro cast him a suspicious glance, "Where did you get this? Don't tell me you stole some of Migara-chan's...?" Keigo rolled his eyes, "What, you gonna tell your _girlfriend_?" The shorter boy burst out in laughter, "Well, look at it this way. Migara-_sensei _probably won't like finding out that _someone_ stole her last piece of straw!"

At this, Keigo's eyes went wide with shock. "N-no way!!!" he waved his arms around, "You're kidding me right?!" Grabbing Mizuiro and shaking him by the shoulders he begged, "C'mon Kojima-sama!!! You're teacher's boyfriend! Help me out, please?!" Mizuiro scratched his cheek and grinned.

_Well_, he sighed, _at least I managed to change the subject... but "-sama"?_ He looked over the edge adjacent to his earlier vantage point, observing the faint echo of footsteps from the open doors. "Better hurry you two," he chuckled to himself.

* * *

All eyes looked up as the door slid open. In walked Tatsuki Arisawa, who cautiously glanced around to check if the teacher was in the room. When she confirmed that there was no instructor, she comfortably closed the door behind her and took her seat in the third row, two seats from the window. Several moments later, the few students who were still looking up observed a shadow coming from the opposite direction.

As students cleared their throats and straightened themselves out, Orihime quashed the urge to roll her eyes. As if by coincidence, Ichigo Kurosaki strode in, the same bored expression written across his face. He took his seat, front row and one seat from the door, tossing a warm smile to Tatsuki from the corner of his shoulder. The girl merely beamed, as if happy to be in class.

She could feel eyes on her body. The latter was of no concern to her. However, she disliked the hard and listless gaze that followed her almost everywhere she went. As if to spite Sado, she cast lustful glances upon Uryuu Ishida, drawing his attention with a brisk flop of her hair. Successful, she felt the awkward tingling sensation on her neck fade somewhat.

With the summer over, it was back to the same old routine. Nothing had changed much in living world since their days on the battlefield. Ichigo, most definitely hadn't changed much. He was still the cynical and unemotional angst ridden teen she'd fallen in love with years ago. Uryuu was still somewhat self-centered, overall still as enigmatic as he ever was. And Sado was... well, he was Sado.

She was the change...

The highlights of the first semester were colorful with rumors. Among them were whispers of a relationship between Mizuiro Kojima and their new instructor, Kozue Migara. It was often noted that he referred to Miss Migara as "Migara-chan" as well as a variety of other pet names which he used to get himself into trouble. More time for the student and teacher to be alone, most figured.

But on a more popular topic, and much to her disgust, the gabbling girls of her posse was Tatsuki's unexplained withdrawal from their social gatherings. True, she still made time for her best friend, but Orihime knew what it was that occupied Tatsuki's mind when they watched their "Cheesy Action Flick", drank their "Generic Sweetened Beverage", and went out to their "Stereotypical Chinese Restaurant." She didn't miss her lustful glances at "certain students", and always noticed her "amorous undertones."

But more shocking was the fact that both Ichigo and Tatsuki had yet to confess their relationship to her. She expected nothing of Ichigo, who probably remembering none of her bedside confession. But it was Tatsuki that astounded her the most. At the very least, her _best friend_ of all people ought to have told her. But thus far, everyone was still in the dark. It was annoying, to be kind. To be frank, one would be tempted to use the word "loathsome."

In her brooding, the instructor's deep greeting passed through her ears. "Inoue Orihime-chan...!" Migara-sensei's oily voice permeated her thought bubble. She stood up and bowed apologetically. The teacher nodded, flashing her usual smile towards Kojima, who feigned innocence.

Right... just another day at school...


	3. Segment II: Bitter Melody

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

It was the same here, at the plaza... Nothing seemed to have changed at all since her first time ever coming here. The same innocent people walked along the same innocent tiling, looking at the same boring old fountain in this boring old town. She couldn't say much for "The Laughing White", since she'd only started working a week before school began again, but it certainly hadn't changed since she'd first come here either. 

"Looks like Sado isn't coming today," Orihime muttered under her breath, flashing a happy grin at a customer as she passed him his beverage. Normally, the idea of his absence thrilled her. But it seemed some of her humanity had returned to her at some point. These days, she had become a recluse. On days she was with friends, she was detached. On her part, it was true she never really had the will to initiate anymore, but Tatsuki's half-hearted "I had fun today" never really convinced her. Her head began to throb.

She needed a coffee. Something to wake her up... Glancing at the clock, she saw that her shift didn't end for another forty minutes. Her only hope now was for some poor fool to forget his order and walk out. Yuta, her co-worker, gave her a sharp nudge. She scowled at him, putting on her business face again. "Triple Cappuccino! Large!" she cried.

Amidst the boredom of school, the dead-end job she worked, and the otherwise somber walks around her neighborhood late at night, she had but one light in this self-imposed abyss. Yes... At any time, if she felt she couldn't take the stress, she'd knock on his door, and he would do away with those little tensions. But it was far from a romantic tryst. Uryuu Ishida was not the type for those things...

"Triple Cappuccino! Large!" she cried again. Already, Orihime had been through four or five orders. And still, this one sat alone. It was turned to the side so she could not see the name of the recipient. Somehow, she was tempted to look.

One the other end of the sleeve, tagged in the usual black marker, the name "Sado" seemed to appear like a mirage. Unconsciously she placed her thumb on the spot where the ink had set it and rubbed it. There was a blank receipt slip tucked in the corner. On the corner she saw her name written. Pulling it out, she read it line by line:

_Coffee is good sometimes, but don't get too worked up on caffeine... — Sado Yasutora_

She swallowed, the sensation of choking on her tongue dramatizing her reaction. Through force of will she clenched her fist and called it reflex. _That man... how intrusive._ The walls of her throat felt like sand. _What, is he spying on me?_ She eyed the steam rising from the opening of the cup._ I don't need him to watch out for me...!_ Inside was the coffee, liquid, wet, and bitter. _Just how I like it..._

* * *

It felt good running down her throat. Orihime crouched and pulled her head to her knees. The door to the storage room opened. "Inoue-san?" came Yuta's voice, "I can see your hair behind the box you know?" 

She felt his presence intensify as he knelt down to feel her forehead, "Are you feeling okay?" When Orihime had finished reading the note, she'd waited another minute before dashing into the back and downing the bitter elixir. It wasn't without notice however. Yuta picked up the half-empty cup next to Orihime and checked the name. At once he saw the note and sighed,

"Is he a friend of yours?"

No reply. "Okay... a stalker?" Again, no reply. Smiling sadly he offered one final suggestion, "A boyfriend?" A twitch, but again, silence. "So you haven't told him yet?" he continued. At once she seized the cup from his grasp, hiding her face as she took another deep sip. Yuta stood up and chuckled, "All right, all right. I'll leave you alone," and then as an afterthought, "And don't worry. I'll cover the rest of your shift."

This seemed to catch Orihime's attention. Standing up suddenly, she shuddered and fell over, her body unable to keep up with the sudden movement, her brain starved of oxygen. "Wait! You don't have to—" she called after him, arm outstretched. But the echo of the door shutting came several seconds too late. Her chest contracted with pain.

How could she be so heartless? After all, it was Yuta... Images of his face flashed into her mind. She could hear his words echoing in her head as she remembered... _That's right... on my third day here he confessed his feelings for me._ She had almost totally forgotten. No, that was a lie. She had completely forgotten. Taking no considering for anyone else, she'd shoved some of her burden onto his shoulders. The saddest part was that he had no idea what he was carrying.

"What am I becoming," she asked herself quietly, staring at her hand. It smelled of recycled cardboard and coffee beans. A few months ago, she would never have touched coffee, let alone work for a coffee shop. Drowning in her own misery, she quickly turned her life into a downward spiral. _Feh... Not the first time I've gone over this..._ The thought was angry.

Orihime's head began to throb. She felt her heart begin to race. Something was filling her mind... poisoning it. She felt her legs quake beneath her. No! Not here! She had to go... go somewhere. She knew where, but she didn't. The door to the rear alley shut behind her, the cool breeze of the beautiful day impacting her face like a slap to the face. She was still in her uniform. No, she didn't have time to change. If she waited for too long she would explode.

Already, she could feel the liquids tipping over the edge of her cup. Yes, that was a good way to express it. She was a gigantic cup, and her life was beginning to spill over the edge. She had to get rid of some before she lost all of it. At the same time, there was a malicious blade chipping away at the tips. Hurry! Before it was too late...

* * *

Her hands found their way to a doorknob. With urgency she reached into her pocket for a key. Wrong pocket. She started knocking as she rummaged for her real pocket. As she stuck it into the keyhole the door opened. She fell forward... 

This was Orihime in the dark... this was her hollow... When she was alone, this was what she was: a twisted, perverted lecher who lusted after a single man, and would use any means to satiate herself on his basis. Forget unrequited love. Throw away everything you knew about love. It was that damn easy to figure her out. If simulated love was anything, then it was better than nothing at all.

So screw the romantics that preached to you about roses and thorns. It wasn't romance as far as she was concerned. It was just easier to say that she wanted a chance to touch Ichigo in ways she had yet to. And there was no logical reasoning behind it. It was fun, and it felt good. Why the hell not right...? Sex felt good.


	4. Segment III: Strumming

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

"That's not it..."

He strummed it out again, biting his lip when he found he still did not like it. He tried it again. The beautiful hum of vibrating strings filled the hollow storage house, bouncing off of rusty steel girders and ricocheting off of metal walls. Abruptly the music stopped, and the sound of a chord distorted itself.

"I don't get what's wrong with it," Karin looked up from her studies, "I like it. What's the problem?" Sado strummed out the tune again, stopping at the sixth note, "Right there... I don't like it." He played it several times more before stopping to adjust his guitar again.

"Okay, now it's getting annoying..."

She sat upright and let her legs dangle over the edge of the stairs, setting her book down on one of the steps and jumping almost two stories down to the base floor where Sado was. "Play it _one more time_," she demanded. She then closed her eyes, listening to the melody as he played it through. It was relaxing, surreal almost. As she took in each and every chord, felt each riff through her fingertips, she noticed Sado had stopped playing. Opening one eye, she tilted her head to one side, "So what's wrong with it?"

"It just doesn't have that feel I want..."

"What kind of feel _do_ you want?"

"Something... happy."

Karin felt a vein rise in her forehead, "Well... I think that fills the happiness department pretty well." "No," Sado shook his head, bending over his guitar, "It doesn't feel right... Here, listen." He made another adjustment to his guitar before playing it again. The abandoned warehouse echoed a sort of sadness. Now she heard it... but it wasn't any different from before.

"It's sour..." she stared at him thoughtfully, "I like it." "Sour?"the man failed to pick up on the adjective. "Well... y-you know!" she stopped, realizing that she herself didn't really know how to describe it.

"Here, put a lemon in your mouth."

"Lemon?" Sado raised both eyebrows, looking up at her as she kicked the stairs, rattling them enough to drop her bag into her arms. From the bag she produced a lemon slice, popping it into his mouth. All this happened too quickly for him to realize what was going on. _Hey..._ He felt his fingers draw towards the strings. _She's right._

Judging from his expression, she guessed she'd been correct. Beaming, she asked him to play it again. _This is nice..._ She sighed happily. They were alone here, with no one to disturb them. It was nice to have some alone time with Sado. Never was there a dull moment with him, and even rarer were moments were she could not smile at his easygoing attitude.

"Still, people wouldn't like a song like this..." Sado frowned slightly, letting the last strings fall still. "Then play it anyway," Karin shook her head, as if scolding, "It sounds nice after all. Why not?" The earthiness of his happy chuckle raised her heartbeat, "Well, then people wouldn't like me." Her cheeks grew red as she bent forward. Well... it was now or never, she supposed.

"Even if other people don't like you, _I like you..._" A pause... She kissed his forehead and stared at the floor.

"K-Karin..."

A long silence...

She felt dizzy. Still no response? She expected him to at least get angry. Without warning, he stood up.

"...!"

She felt it. Looking up, she could felt something explode far off in the distance.

* * *

"Ichigo?" Tatsuki stood up just as soon as he did. He grasped the railings of the restaurant balcony and leaned forward, scanning the horizon for as far as his eye could see. _Impossible...! Here...?!_ There was just no way. Something of that immensity couldn't possibly be here. He looked to Tatsuki, whose clueless expression told him she knew nothing. Best not to start a panic. First priority: get Tatsuki home safely.

"We should go," he said brusquely, calling a waiter's attention. "Hey, wait a minute," Tatsuki opened her mouth to protest. "_Now_," he didn't even turn around, but had addressed her before she could even say a word. Something about his tone of voice sent a chill up her spine. Something was definitely wrong. She watched him hurriedly gather their food into boxes and place a sum of money in the blue envelope placed elegantly upon their table. Then he turned to Tatsuki, "I'm dropping you off at home. Make sure you don't leave it until I contact you."

"Why?!" she had to say something. What he was doing was absolutely absurd. For seemingly no reason at all, he was calling the curtains on a perfectly lovely evening. She'd been enjoying herself up until now. "Answer me, Ichigo," she demanded, her hands firmly on his collar, "What could be happening right now that is so urgent?" By now, everyone in the restaurant was looking at them. This was, after all, a more well-known place.

"I..." Ichigo tried to explain, but fell short of words. Lamely he turned his head to the side, as if ashamed. _She can't know... It would put her in a world of trouble..._ One side of his conscience was speaking to him. The other one fired back, _But she has to know eventually. It's not like she won't find out if you don't tell her..._ Tatsuki's glare wasn't helping much.

"Are you keeping secrets from me?" she demanded softly, her eyes trying to see beyond that misty abyss.

"No..."

"I know you're lying..." she twisted him so that he was looking at her face. But Ichigo merely rolled his head in the other direction. She grimaced, utterly shocked at this complete change in demeanor, "_Lovers_ don't keep secrets right?" Ichigo looked up, his face tense, his expression full of guilt. She felt her chest pang seeing it.

After a long silence, he took her wrist and eased it away, sighing, "I did plan to tell you eventually... I just didn't think you'd have to know so soon." Tatsuki narrowed her eyes. He walked out onto the street, waiting for his companion to step through the doorway. As she sidled close to his shoulder he murmured quietly,

"Please... for my sake, stay home until I give you a call. Okay?"

His voice cracked as he said it. Another pang. It seemed he could not look her in the face. In silence, she could only nod and hurry after him as he dashed for the train station.


	5. Segment IV: Mind Game

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

The rules were simple...

One: You may not look into the other player's eyes while having sex. You are free to look at any object or body part, but not directly into the eyes. If you look into the other player's eyes, the game is over. Two: You may not say the other player's name while having sex. You are free to say any other word, phrase, or name that you desire. If the other player hears their name, the game is over. Three: You may not say the words "I love you" at any time while having sex. If the other player hears the words "I love you" at any time, the game is over.

Four: You may not cry while having sex. You can only shed tears. If you whimper or sob, the game is over. Five: If at any time a player wishes to stop, the game is over. Six: If both players consent to having sex again, the game resumes. Seven: If either player climaxes while playing the game, the game is over. Eight: Players may not hurt themselves. Players may scratch, bite, and hit the other player. If either player hurts him or herself, the game is over.

This was the game, and those were the rules...

* * *

Orihime lay, quiet and satiated. Tears of pain rolled down her cheek. Her nails were covered in blood, skin crusted into her nails. Her legs were spread outward, her arms covering her breasts. She heaved a heavy sigh, shuddering quietly as she orgasmed again.

She was alone in a bed that wasn't hers. Her entire body ached, and she felt dead tired. All over, her skin screamed in pain. It was unbearable to touch it. Even though Uryuu had finished using her, she didn't want to cry, for fear that he would end the game. She didn't want to end the game. She had too much to lose if the game ended now...

Uryuu strode back into the room, the expanse of his back and shoulders covered in gauze. He tossed a towel to Orihime. "You should wash up," he grunted quietly, pulling a robe from his closet and sliding it on. "Feel free to use anything in the shower," the door swung open again, "But as soon as you're done, leave..."

Orihime cringed at this unrestrained display of coldness. Uryuu's voice was harsh, not at all like it usually was. She flinched at the sound of the door. From beneath the blanket, she drew her hand from her innards and held it over her face. Sticky liquids dangled dangerously from her palm and fingers. She felt inclined to lick it... She did...

As she stood up, more fluid issued from her crevice. She collapsed onto her knees, gasping with pain and pleasure as it exited her body. It was symbolic of her state of mind. Even as it hurt, she felt the water fall back from the edge of the cup. Its volume diminished, dwindling away until it was less than half. It wasn't that bad... right? By coming here she and Uryuu continued a symbiotic existence. He satisfied his desires, and she retained her sanity. For what little sanity she had to spare...

* * *

"So what do you think...?" 

Ichigo lowered his sword, reverting it into his hand again. Sado felt unnerved at the sudden disappearance of his aura. Ignoring the peanut gallery, Ichigo turned to the sunset, sighing, "I really have no idea..."

Swallowing his fear, he grunted quietly, "Of course you don't." He resisted the urge to defend his head, trembling slightly under the angry gaze of his ally. "In any event," Ichigo stressed his mind to limit the amount of energy that emanated from his voice, "Is Karin alright?" Sado relaxed, sensing his friend had found balance again, "Yes... I took her back to your house..."

"Did she sense any of it?"

"If it scared _you_, you can be sure she felt it..."

About one hour ago, a massive aura appeared with no apparent origin. For exactly seven seconds it expanded, engulfing the entire town. Those who were spiritually sensitive felt it as a massive tremor. And as it had appeared, it shot into the mountains and vanished mid-flight, leaving absolutely no trace. There was a large crater of energy where it had first materialized.

It had been massive, but Ichigo was sure that it was compressed as well. The true shock was the diameter, which he couldn't even finish measuring before he lost track of it. Surprisingly enough, however, there was no damage to the physical realm.

He looked up at the sky. There was a familiar scent in the air... one he hadn't smelled in a long time. He could also feel rifts in his surroundings, where seams had been repaired from some unknown damage. Given a quick glance, the handiwork was definitely that of a powerful being. In fact, the only person who could perform a repair like this was...

"I'm going to check on Orihime," Sado withdrew his aura, turning about and walking away. Ichigo did not so much as look up. "Have fun with your memories..." Sado raised a single hand in mock compassion. He lowered his eyes to the rising moon, chuckling bitterly"Are you watching me...?

"I know you can hear me. I know what you're thinking. Have you been having fun, watching me like this? Have you been enjoying the show? After all, we've all gone to great lengths to make this channel interesting.

"What do you think of this world? Now that everything is over, do you think anything has changed? Or are you just laughing at me right now? Better yet, you're probably saving the laughter for when I walk away. Hell, you better laugh at me, or you know I'm gonna come after you if you don't. That's right... I'm threatening you now.

"...I... I've missed you... But don't think that things will be the way they were back then. When you decide to stop being a coward and show yourself, don't expect me to come running back..."

He picked a single flower and stared at it for a long time. It was a daisy, missing a single petal from the left. It was growing brown, a sign that it was wilting. Strange... they didn't grow daisies in this park. Ichigo smirked, rubbing his nose and clenching his fist around it. As he released it, the petals flew from their perch, crystallized with his own aura. "She loves me not..." he murmured, vanishing into the air, as the crystal petals dissolved into the wind.

* * *

"_Ooh_... big talk for a punk..." 

Her feet slid across the concrete, kicking aside one of the shards. Her face twitched, but in the end it forced its way into her face. "Piece of crap," she pressed her palm to her left breast, smiling weakly.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were still in love with him."

"Mind your own business..."

And then, "You know what...? Just shut up..."

Laughter... "But I didn't say a thing..."


	6. Segment V: Rainy Days

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

"Hideo..."

"Keiko-neesan... I feel weird..."

"Just hush..." she narrowed her eyes, leaning forward and pressing her tongue forward. His lips offered no resistance, and as she entered she felt his tongue greet her. The ten-year-old shuddered in her arms. Hideo's hands trembled, unsure whether to shove her away with all his might or grab her by the ass and pull her in.

Keiko gasped for breath. Beneath her, Hideo nearly collapsed. "Sis," he moaned, "I—Mmph!" "Even though mama and papa are getting married, you'll always be Hideo to me," she smiled and held him gently. It started to pour... They couldn't go home now...

"Keiko...?" Hideo looked up, face red. "Yes?" she held him close, burying his face into her bosom. He breathed in, inhaling her strong perfume. It mingled with the scent of sweat... The combination was arousing. Or maybe it was the pheromones she was emitting now. He didn't really know... He'd only heard the word on television.

"Keiko, I..." he hesitated, embarrassed, ashamed, or maybe even amused, "Keiko, I don't ever want it to change..." Keiko blushed, turning her gaze away. "Did I say something weird?" Hideo resisted to urge to pout. He had to look strong for Keiko, if she was to rely on him. In her silence he said this aloud, and she blushed even more. Disheartened, he lowered his head, "Sorry..."

"Idiot...!" she buried her nose into his hair, "Don't say things like that..." He smelled of hay bales in the summer. How she knew what a hay bale smelled like was a mystery to her. And yet, that was what he smelled like. "Do you want to embarrass me or something...?" she giggled bemusedly.

He smiled, stepping up on the tips of his toes and kissing his sister-in-law. What _was_ a sister-in-law anyway? That was what his mother had called her at an engagement party. Keiko seemed to know more about it. Well, he was sure a sister-in-law was different from a sister. This wasn't wrong... right? And even if it was, he didn't care... After all, before mom met dad, they used to go out on walks and dip their feet in the park pond.

A bolt of lightning separated them momentarily. They looked up at the night sky, and Hideo fought back tears of fear. Sighing compassionately, Keiko took her younger brother into her arms. In the rain, a lullaby could be heard, echoing through the dark alleys and floating through slumbering trees. It was the lullaby her father used to sing when she was scared...

Hideo knew it all too well...

* * *

"...!" Makoto sat up, hot and sweaty. He looked left and right, instinctively shielding his head to protect himself from the rain, except... "It's not raining," he mumbled quietly. A troubled look flashed across his face. He turned around and gazed at his older sister, Natsuki, who slept quietly upon an arrangement of varied cardboard sections. She groaned softly and rolled over, her hair falling over her face. It reminded him of something. Makoto stood up, casting aside the large tarp he'd been using as a blanket. "What was her name...?" he asked himself, staring at Natsuki's face.

Again Natsuki rolled over. As she did so, she opened her eyes, looking straight at the moon, and away from Makoto. She couldn't even remember the name of that lullaby... the one Makoto had muttering in his sleep. But hearing it aloud gave her images of what she assumed to be her father. She couldn't even remember his name. It seemed like everything had happened decades ago. But that was only a delusion of PTSD.

She'd actually forgotten her real name up until a few days ago, when Makoto had starting to experience restless dreams. She'd only known his, and through force of will had called him Makoto for the last few years. Makoto would be turning thirteen soon, and she was already seventeen...

If only she could go back... back to those halcyon days. She missed her mother, whose name she also did not remember. Or maybe she was confusing the image with that other person. It brought her to the verge of tears when she thought about things like this. How she wanted to tell Makoto about it... But she knew now that he would never really come to accept something like that. After all, she was the only one who remembered... The only one who really knew what it had been like then.

Makoto often told stories about the time they'd spent with mama and papa. It seemed he had a few fragmented memories of his days with them. She only remembered them in crystalline images, impersonal and distant from herself.

"I know you're awake. I can see your eyelids blinking..."

Eventually, Natsuki sat up and gazed upon her love. _Former_ love, she had to remember. He was her brother now. Nothing could change that anymore. Hell, there wasn't even a skeleton to bury. Obliterating it to many indiscernible tiny pieces was humiliation enough. They could hardly even pick up the pieces.

"Thinking about mama again?"

"Shut up...!" Makoto lay back down and covered himself with the tarp. They both knew to which mother she referred to. In a dark voice, Makoto growled, "I'll kill him... that Uryuu..." To no one else but himself he repeated his vow. "Anyone who makes mom cry," he clenched his teeth, "I'll kill them...!" But Natsuki knew the real reason... the one reason why Makoto hated to see his mother in the arms of a man...

"Well whaddaya know?" a familiar voice launched both Natsuki and her brother upright, fists raised. A strange, carrot-topped boy, still dressed in a school uniform, scratched the back of his head. Immediately Natsuki lowered her guard, sighing with relief. "I'm guessing by your reaction you aren't allowed here?" he threw a careless glance towards Makoto, who growled angrily.

Truth be told, this was actually a private park. The owner, a late investor, bought this park from the city to save it from being turned into a parking lot. He'd met his wife here, and still had sentimental value invested into it. Coincidentally, he founded his first business on this very plot of land, some ten feet below.

Of course, she knew this from the plaque in the park's central statue. According to the warning signs, there were private officers patrolling the grounds. However, of the few paid workers that actually did their job, not many ever bothered to check the service facilities.

Something soft impacted her chest. She cradled it reflexively, suddenly noticing Ichigo had left her felt of vision. The young man was walking along, going his way. As she opened her mouth to question him he raised a hand to silence her. "I can always get more at a convenience store," he vanished behind a large tree, his voice echoing distantly.

"I like him," she giggled quietly. Makoto looked up, eyes wide.

For some reason hearing that made him extremely angry...


	7. Segment VI: Invoke

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

"Mmn... My head," she rolled over and shielded her eyes from the hall light, "Who opened the door...?" She was hearing voices again... It sounded awfully real.

"No, don't worry, I'll be there. Yeah... me too."

"Hnn... Ichigo?" Yuzu sat up, rubbing her eyes sleepily, "What are you doing in my room?" From an unfamiliar desk, her older brother of seventeen looked up as he set the phone down. "Oh, you're awake," Ichigo murmured blankly. There was no sign of emotion in his voice. She cringed slightly at the harsh tone of emotionlessness, gradually realizing what she'd been sleeping on.

"Oh!" a thud, and clumsily Yuzu picked herself up from a fall. Unconcernedly Ichigo, who had been rummaging through his closet, pulled out a heavy coat and addressed his sibling, "You don't have to get up. I won't be home tonight." Her cheeks turned red as she watched him discard certain personals, standing up and turning to a poster of a random rock band that was hung up on his wall.

She jumped at the sound of the phone ringing again. Ichigo held the display up and called for Karin, who peered through the seldom unlocked door. "It's for dad," he tossed the phone towards the black-haired sister, fishing his house keys out of his school pants. "Going out again?" Karin's half-dead voice called the attention of her twin, as she scrambled to avoid dropping the phone. Ichigo shrugged, propping the window open and reaching his legs through the opening,

"Yeah. I won't be home tonight, so feel free to lock the window."

And with that he was gone. Karin sighed, staring idly at Yuzu who, in her sleepy state, remained standing in her corner with a confused expression. The poor girl still had no idea. To Ichigo, it was of little concern as to exactly who knew about his relationship with Tatsuki. Of course, he wouldn't be one to spread the news either. And so Yuzu was left in the dark, with little more decision in the matter of Ichigo's yet unexplained absences than the occasional nag and unheard protest.

This had been at Karin's discretion. It was clear that Yuzu was still unaware of what was bubbling inside her. As usual, Ichigo seemed not to notice, though Karin was sure the boy had some plan in mind. In the meantime, it was she who was left to alleviate this previously unnoticed tension. Christ she needed an aspirin.

"Let's go to bed," she beckoned to her sister, who now stood obsessively stroking the spots where she'd seen Ichigo's fingers touch the window. Her eyes bore a lonesome, pining desire, and her lip quivered in the way it always did when she was worried.

"Come on. Since you're awake, let's go back to our room," and then, "If Ichigo comes home early, he can sleep in his bed." It was only an aftertaste, not something fully tangible. Yuzu sighed, unconvinced. Of course, she didn't feel very comfortable about sleeping in Ichigo's bed... even if she wanted to.

Somehow the idea of going out for a midnight stroll was enticing. She often wondered what it would be like to walk under the moon, unbound by familial ties and free to wander. But that was not her life. That was Ichigo's life. Emotionally detached from everything, seldom did he ever show emotion for another's benefit. In fact, even when cornered by the proverbial "blade", she doubted he would hint at fear. More likely, the hero would scoff.

If only she could be that strong... if only she could fend for herself. She felt so helpless at times that it could be unbearable... "Ichigo," Yuzu swallowed, not knowing the words to describe the hopeless longing she felt at that moment...

* * *

"You just came here for my body didn't you...?" she groaned, allowing his brachioradialis to hoist her hips against the wall, while arching forward to bite his neck aggressively. Ichigo's chest rumbled in a seductive growl,

"I thought you were gonna mug me..." he squeezed the bones in her back as they pressed outward, "I nearly knocked you out..." She gasped in shock as he entered her, smiling and evil smile and contracting the muscles in her abdomen, "You haven't changed at all, Ichigo." He opened an eye, "Oh? Well you've changed a lot."

And they were gone... just like that. The sound of the crickets chirping faded away. The noise of cars on the overpass were overwhelmingly absent. They were alone again...

He could feel the soft warm feathers wrap around them like a blanket. It felt soothing... Tatsuki sighed, leaning quietly upon his shoulder and burying her head into his neck. The action called his attention.

"Something wrong?" he asked gently. As Ichigo rocked her in his arms, she felt tears well up behind her eyes, "It's nothing... Haah!" She writhed with delight. Ichigo dug his knuckles into an indentation in her ribs. She felt her tongue hang out, digging her nails into his back and sighing with pleasure.

"I don't even have to read your mind to know you're lying..."

She closed her angelic eyes, her wings wrapping them a little closer together. She didn't want to talk about it now... Not here... Through her empathy with Ichigo, Tatsuki sensed his tension rise. "I know you felt it," he mumbled softly. Her eyes dulled slightly as she dove into a pillar of thought. She could sense Ichigo watching her path, tracing a line for herself so she didn't get lost.

"Which one are you referring to...?" she eased her hips slightly, trembling for a moment.

"Both," he pulled her close, unable to resist the urge to smile as they rocked in orgasm, "Which one concerns you most?"

"Or don't you already know?"

"I don't. If I did it wouldn't be called drama would it?"

Around them, the whiteness was starting to seem a little bit toxic. She felt herself drawn into its eternity. "I didn't think my strawberry could be afraid of anything." Ichigo felt the sentiment behind it, but did not appreciate it. Tatsuki could understand that much, he knew.

"I don't remember much but... I know that Orihime can see them too..."

"And...?" it was a hollow question. He already knew what she knew. _She_ knew he already knew...

"Does it make you regret falling in love with me?"

"I never figured my strawberry for the romantic type..."

"You have aura as well..."

"...!"

Tatsuki looked up, unable to focus on the "intense" task of tracing a heart with her tongue upon his clavicle. "Aura..." she repeated, as if digesting the word. He stroked her wings gently, deep in thought.

"These wings..." he sighed, stroking them gently. Tatsuki shivered as the signals reached her brain. "Don't do that," she begged, her body language asking for more. But he stopped, drawing away,

"I've come to find a few interesting things about this place," he began to glow, darkness encircling his naked body. "The first," he explained, as black cloth spawned forth, "is that I can use my powers at will here, with little to no strain on myself." Tatsuki was bewildered. Standing before her, decorated in heavy scars and clad in a black trench coat, Ichigo gripped a black-bladed sword, its proportions almost as large as his own body. From beneath the tattered scarf that masked the expanse of his face he murmured seriously, "You have one as well..."

She felt something pulsate in her chest. _Not yet_, it said, _don't act on it yet..._ Tatsuki stared, suddenly feeling something strange writhing through her body.

Suddenly, her vision began to shake. Almost violently they were disconnected from their dream land. Torn back to reality, she found Ichigo standing, fully clothed. She too, had been redressed. His expression was raised to the sky. There was something grave about his eyes.

"No..."

She looked up... The problem was, she wasn't exactly sure where up was.


	8. Segment VII: Precursor

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

Orihime looked up, eyes wide. She turned from the sink to her window, dropping her face towel and dashing to the framing. "W-What in the...?" she couldn't find the words to describe what she was seeing. No, she couldn't see it, but she knew it was there. And it was massive. She could literally make out the outlines of a perfectly masked aura.

It was perfect because any normal being would never be detected under that kind of veil. The power that was seeping out was pure... energy. There wasn't even a definitive form to it. And it was growing. It seemed to be expanding, but at moments fading. There was no way the others hadn't felt this... Wait... How could she have missed something like this? There had never been a precursor. None at all...! It was impossible for something of this magnitude to have amassed itself so quickly. It was the exact same thing as flipping a light-switch on.

All of a sudden it shot southwards, appearing over the mountains before she could even feel it transfer. It had happened so quickly, that momentarily Orihime had been convinced it had somehow multiplied. Before she could even focus on its location, it disappeared, as if someone had just flipped the very same light switch off.

Thud! She fell over from surprise, staggering forward and hurrying down her stairs. The adrenaline rush had just now attacked her, leaving noradrenalin to sit in its coffin waiting for its next opening. She only hoped she wouldn't hit her head. She had enough bodily pains as it were...

* * *

"Ichigo... w-what was that...?" Tatsuki collapsed to the ground, dazed. A strange man she had never seen before was standing before her, shielding her. From his arms extended a window-like shield, black in color. His hand was outstretched, the dark energy protruding from his palm. Ichigo knelt down, the shield shrinking somewhat in size. There was a small crack in the center where some light could slip through.

He stared at his arm, which was leaking out aura. Impossible... his cloak had been damaged. Tatsuki gaped, unsure what to make of the strange shadows that drifting slowly out of the skin on his arm. He spat upon the ground, completely withdrawing his shield. "Whatever it was, it was stronger than me..."

Again, the crickets were chirping. Again, the moon was shining brightly in the night. Again, street lamps flooded the empty city, bringing light to an otherwise disparaged world. That power... that power she'd witnessed just now. She'd seen it before... No, not seen it... _Felt_ it. From Orihime...

Incredible... simply amazing. When she'd seen Orihime use this power, it had been but a fraction of some unknowingly small decimal. Instinctively she knew that this went beyond physical strength. She was suddenly so sure of what this essence, this "aura" was.

But she knew so little about it...

"Are you alright?" Ichigo asked, reappearing into her view, his other hand outstretched. She stood up of her own strength, leaning on the while while she gained her balance, defiantly refusing his offer. As soon as she'd said it, she eyed his other arm, which he quickly withdrew.

"_Don't_," he growled. It wasn't seductive this time. His eyes glowed seriously, somehow demanding respect from her. His voice alone seemed suddenly stronger, as if it could shatter her with a single blow. "I take it that means you'll explain later...?" she asked quietly, someone hurt by his uncalled for scolding. He looked away contritely,

"This isn't good..." His eyes were fixed on his arm. She stared at it more carefully now as he showed it to her, his other hand raised in a manner that said _if you touch it you'll regret it_. Nearly unnoticeable to the human eye, thin cracks seemed to have formed in his skin. In fact, his skin didn't even look real. "I have to get this repaired," he muttered, then looking up at her, "I think you ought to come with me... You'll probably understand it better if you see it for yourself."

There was something sad about his voice... rueful... His manner of speech bespoke that of one who had escaped death many times. That was something Tatsuki was sure of. But she didn't like how he sounded now. It was strained, as if he was having trouble speaking... This time, his voice had emotion... Sorrow, regret... pain, anguish...

"Just what kind of man _are_ you, Ichigo...?"

"More than you've ever imagined," he almost swept her off of her feet, leaping into the air. Tatsuki shook her head, sighing, "No, I knew... You just haven't told me yourself."

* * *

Had his face always been this rough? She'd never felt it before, so he had no idea. There were so many calluses on his body and remnants of battle scars that had gradually healed away.

Above the door, the clock's rounds were becoming more and more obnoxious. She forced herself to remain focused on Sado, who was simply lying there, unconscious. It would do no good for her to live through one of her mad spells with a guest in her home...

_Guest_...? Sado was a _guest_? Now she almost laughed. Orihime couldn't take this for much longer. She had to stand up, get moving, do _something_ before this empty silence drove her insane. On the stove, bubbles began to surface over the edge of a pot. _Like my life_, she thought, just thankful for an excuse to leave his side, _except less effervescent_. He would be hungry after all, once he woke up.

Just now, she'd felt an aura that she was unfamiliar with. There was the other, Ichigo's aura, which had most likely appeared for defensive purposes. She doubted it was Ichigo who had driven the massive ball away. But for a split second...

She'd felt another aura. It was human, to be sure, and somehow appeared alongside of Ichigo's. Orihime could no longer sense it now, but that sort of occurrence was a feat worth mentioning. And yet she knew it somehow. No, that was impossible... she didn't think that was possible. But it wasn't exactly _impossible_ was it? One couldn't rule the idea out. After, Tatsuki was spiritually aware...

A stinging sensation. She pulled her hand away of her own accord, sighing. Some broth had jumped to her finger from the bubbles, settling into one of her cuts. Whenever Sado awoke, she would have to put on her smile again. When that time came, these cuts would become accidental falls and cooking incidents... It felt good to lie...

But even if it felt good to lie, she didn't like doing it. But she would for as long as it filled that hole in her life... She gazed upon Sado, sighing emptily. To no one but herself, she silently admitted a confession of denial. Those feelings were forever banished since her days in the Hueco Mundo realm. She'd made herself this promise.


	9. Segment VIII: Peach, Pineapple, Cherry

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

It tasted good, but she wasn't hungry. Hell, she didn't even know what she was eating. She could tell which part was rice and fish, but there was a strange sort of candy that was "hidden" among the leaves. And then there's been the way that baldy had told her to eat everything, as if he meant these strange little desserts.

"Are you just going to sit there and stare at your food?"

Tatsuki's shoulders tensed, unused to the strange sensations she was feeling. Every time someone moved, she could feel their movement, almost see them through the walls. And when they spoke, she felt more than just the aerial vibrations, which suddenly seemed so much more pronounced as it were. This "Urahara" fellow had a nasty habit of sneaking up on people.

Ichigo was sleeping calmly, although he did have a strange garment affixed to his arm. It was glowing with the same essence that was coming out of his body, as if absorbing his energy. Kisuke sighed, setting down next to her and taking one of the untouched bowls,

"Since I haven't eaten yet myself, I think I'll call this dinner..."

Tatsuki glowered at him. It was a poor attempt at getting her to consume her confections. She cringed at the sound of his crunching. "Hmm, peach," he stated, frowning, "They aren't poison you know, though the flavoring isn't exactly... well." He glanced at the bowl in her hand, picking out one with the chopsticks and dropping one of his own with his hand, "I think this one is orange..." His grimace told otherwise.

The door to the central room slid open, and the red-haired boy Jinta stuck his head out. "Can you hurry it up? Ururu is starting to freak out a bit," he looked scared. "Just as I was about to get to the food," Kisuke grumbled to himself.

"You ought to eat that," came a soft grunt. Contrary to the contained nature of the voice a large muscular man, both bald and apron-bearing, strode out with a tray of strange objects. He set them down before the door and knocked twice before approaching the table and taking one bowl for himself. There was something uncharacteristically serene about him, for the man looked as though he might go on a mad rampage at any moment.

"If you're worried about anyone, it ought to be that young man over there," his tone was reverent. She looked to Ichigo from his mild appearance, sighing deeply. "It's terrifying to stand in the face of his aura," he said as he poured himself some tea. She felt comfortable in the midst of the hot steam. He noticed her thirsty stare, smiled, and poured some for her.

She looked up, lips pursed. She hadn't actually asked for some, so it was annoying to have herself served at a mere glance. But she wasn't angry, no. In fact, this was actually kind of nice. She looked to Ichigo, who muttered something indistinct in his sleep.

"I don't know how he can sleep so calmly like that... If you were to touch his body while he was at full strength, you would probably lose an arm. It's amazing that someone of his age can still—"

"—I think you've scared her enough, Tessai-san."

"Oh, Ichigo!" Tatsuki stood up. He smiled in an unusually cute way, waving his good hand sheepishly. She blushed, turning her eyes away. He strode up to her, touch her cheek and guiding her eyes back. "Are you sure we should really be..." but she was interrupted by Ichigo's gentle hush.

"In front of... Mmm..."

Tessai cleared his throat, taking the tray and vanishing behind the door. "You had me worried," she whispered quietly as soon as they finished necking. Ichigo chuckled and tensed the muscles in his arm, "You know better than that..." Then he sighed, looking up at the clock. It was nearing midnight. Soon it would be time to reseal his arm.

"It's as they say," he knelt down to a bowl and began to eat, "You need to eat one of those candies." He looked up at her sternly, "Not many people can actually take the full force of my aura without exhausting their own supply." "I take that to mean you'll explain everything I don't get in the demonstration?" she finally popped one into her mouth, finding it surprisingly easy to chew. Kisuke had been right... the flavoring _was_ off.

"Looks like Urahara got himself pineapple," he took a sip of his tea, leaving the candies alone at the bottom of the bowl. Tatsuki giggled half-heartedly, "Peach, Pineapple, and Cherry..." They grinned in unison.

* * *

"So just how long are we expected to wait?"

"Hmm... I just want to see Ichigo-kun again...!"

"Jeez, Nova. Get her a dog collar for gods sakes..."

Ririn giggled and stroked Nova's chest, "Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you '_boy_'...?" Much to Cloud's chagrin, Nova entertained the idea with a grunt, neither negative or affirmative in nature. "Oh, good _lord_, Nova!" Cloud groaned, "Don't you think two on one is even slightly unfair?" "Well you're the one who suggested it," Ririn leaned her generous chest forward.

Nova was in no mood for banter. They all felt it, looking up to the sky. "Oh my..." Ririn blushed, "It's... Ichigo." Nova peered out through the battered window, "We were instructed to wait until contacted by Urahara."

"And how long will that take?!" Cloud groaned, kicking his legs into the air. Ririn scowled, finally annoyed. "Don't make me break that gigai!" she threatened, waving her fist in the air. Cloud sat up, flailing his arms in terror,

"I just got this thing! Don't you dare lay a sleazy hand on my beautiful gigai!"

Nova coughed slightly, pulling Ririn back to his body and leaning over her. She cooed softly, feigning surprise. As they kissed he stroked the back of her neck, and she writhed in pleasure in his arms. She let her body fall limply, licking her lips and whimpering. "Do you think Ichigo will still remember us? I mean—after all..."

"We_have_ changed quite a bit..."

She wasn't sure who finished the sentiment, but she wholeheartedly agreed... It wouldn't be like the old days anymore.


	10. Segment IX: Second Innocence

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

"I want Tatsuki to be the one..."

Kisuke Urahara had to strain himself in order to avoid letting his eyes bulge. He couldn't hide it completely... "A-are you sure," Tessai seemed to be equally shocked. The girl blinked, suddenly the focus of attention.

"Ichigo," Kisuke tried to reason, "You realize that if the damage had spread that far, we'd still have to call—" The merchant immediately humbled himself. Tatsuki noticed a bloodthirsty stare in Ichigo's eyes. Silence... Jinta, Tessai, and Ururu all stared at their employer, then at Ichigo, Kisuke again...

After several moments, Kisuke nodded, almost bowed his head. "I'm sorry..." he apologized. As hard as Ichigo was trying, he couldn't keep his mask of anger on. The mold twisted into an expression of pain. Finally Ichigo spoke, "I'm fully aware that Tatsuki cannot control more than one layer... There's no way for us to remove it without _her_?" "Well..."

"You're forgetting about the others," Ururu suddenly interrupted, "If we released the other seals, we'd have to call everybody else back in order to set them again." Ichigo grimaced, staring hard at the wall. Tatsuki looked left and right.

None of it seemed to be making any sense. In fact, she was sure the others were far more confused than she was. This person, whoever she was, was the center of discussion, and clearly important to whatever operation Ichigo was attempting to carry out. So something was broken... and they were trying to fix it. And they were able to fix it, except... Ichigo wanted her—Tatsuki—involved somehow. Only to do that, they would have to call somebody else...

A girl... somebody Ichigo didn't want to see. But it was also obvious that Ichigo harbored no feelings of malice towards this person... _Somebody close_, she thought apprehensively. Then that meant...

"Ichigo?" The others in the room froze. Tatsuki put her hand around Ichigo's waist, sighing sadly. He nodded in acknowledgment, turning to Kisuke. The man sighed and stood up, striding to the center of the room and opening a previously unseen hatch from beneath the tatami. He beckoned for the others to follow him down, and one by one they all disappeared, until the two in the corner were the only ones left. Tatsuki took a deep breath. "I'm scared," she muttered as she clambered down.

Ichigo was wordless. There were no words to say at this point...

* * *

"Did I add too much seasoning?"

"Oh... N-no..." Sado stared into his plate, the food staring back with a vengeance. Or he wished they would, so that it would be a lot easier to eat it. And yet, swallowing the finely cooked slice of steak, it felt like sand between his teeth and acid going down his throat. Sado set his fork down and—without meaning to—broke the deathly silence with the clang of his fork.

He had the sneaking suspicion that Orihime's glass wasn't water... It was too light for that. Orihime, on the other hand, was quietly ignoring his very presence. It hurt. Everything hurt now. It was raining outside, and yet Sado would gladly trade this stabbing torture inside a warm home to be out there, where the pitter-patter of rain would occupy the brunt of his attention. It was like choosing between cyanide and drowning...

Did he find such suicidal thoughts disturbing? Not really... He had no reason to exist in this world. But that didn't mean he would cause his own death. That went against his principles, and a man of principles, naturally, doesn't violate them.

"Aren't_you_ going to eat...?" he asked, picking at the ice. Orihime stood up and walked over to the sink. Her footsteps were unnaturally silent. Sado couldn't even see the depressions where her ankles anchored themselves in the mat. "Have you always been like this?" she murmured, turning to him as the water ran from the faucet.

"I'm sorry..."

"What are you apologizing for...?"

She forced another smile, leaning forward onto the window and breathing onto the panes. It was almost shameful that she was scorning him. Indelibly she found herself drawn to his aura. Oddly enough, Orihime abruptly realized that these feelings had remained inside for quite some time. Guilt spread across her face.

What would Sado's reaction be if he knew about her affair with Uryuu? Would he react at all? It's not like she had feelings for Uryuu, so was it even an affair...?

Sado stood behind her, and she half expected him to push her out the window. A fitting end to an unfitting life was the pleasant afterthought, her mind already traveling down those two stories and slamming into the ground. Sado's hand stretched out to her arm. She turned around and looked into his eyes. He seemed sad, almost wounded. It was probably her fault...

"It's because," he answered finally, "I'm never there for you when you need me..." Orihime stared, unsure how she ought to react to his statement. But he didn't seem to want an answer. If anything it was a confession to himself. Why did her mind suddenly seem clear...? This feeling...

_I feel innocent_, she thought to herself. But she wasn't innocent, and that was a fact. Ironically enough the next words out of Sado's mouth were, "I wish I could protect you more than I have... You're too pure..." Orihime's face darkened. "Even though I'd like to believe that," a tear fell from her eyes, "I'm sorry to say that you're..." Orihime never had a chance to finish her sentence... In fact, she never had much of a chance to do anything after that.

Sado's arms wrapped around her back. She suddenly noticed that her glass of wine was empty. But she hadn't finished it, and Sado's breath was... Was he drunk? She'd been so busy wallowing in self-guilt to see him take it. None of this was real... It just couldn't be or she would break.

But as her friend's face drew forward, their eyes locking irresistibly together, Sado begged, almost cried, "I don't like it when you cry..." She could smell the sweat and rainwater from his shirt. It was arousing. She felt something bump her cup, and several drops of precious liquid spilled out. Was this real or metaphorical? She didn't know anymore. She didn't want to know anymore...

Orihime's legs parted readily, wrapping around Sado's waist. Sado, who was somewhat surprised by this open gesture, obliged forwardly into the wall. The redheaded beauty groaned audibly as if to entice him. Had Orihime always been this good at kissing...? But she sucked the thought away with her long tongue, scraping away at the roof of his mouth and tickling his nerves with gentle scratches. Her mind began to go blank.

Darkness... emptiness... pleasure... And then silence. A very long silence. The unbearable kind of silence that suffocates the soul and buries the heart under tons of slimy earth.

With a loud thud Orihime slid down the wall and to the ground. Sado looked as if he were going to vomit. Was it the wine? No, she knew why he could no longer bear to look at her face. Pain and angst stabbed at her heart. "Why?" he asked her persistently, desperately, "Why?"

As he slammed the door behind him, she began to sob. "Ichigo," she murmured, clutching at her half-exposed breast, "Sado..."


	11. Segment X: A Chance to Rest

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Univers_e  
_

* * *

_Dear Berry,_

_Assuming this gets past customs, I hope this letter greets you well. The envelope? Yeah, not too inconspicuous, but then, it's not like letters travel from our world to yours often. I decided to write this letter because I'm getting a little bit lonely. I think I've forgotten the taste of your saliva._

_But if we were to meet each other again, I don't think I'd coming running to your arms. It's been far too long for that. These days the others have all moved on. Have you heard? Our effeminate own got a job in your world. But he's on a completely different continent._

_Do you remember? I doubt you would, but right now I'm thinking of the party... after everything was over. Boobs was the one who organized it, and it was embarrassing for you to write me an invitation. At first, I didn't even want to go. But then you figured out my house number and called me, insisting I go. That was when you gave me that beautiful bracelet._

_Oh, hey! I still have it! It got too small for my wrists, so I had to wear it around my necklace. I can almost remember how weird it felt to get it from you. And then, for the first time in so long, I suddenly remembered what love was..._

_Every once in a while I think I can feel you. It's almost like you're standing behind me, waiting for me to turn around and just kiss you. Oh man, and to think that a moment ago I wouldn't come running to you._

_But you know, Berry? You're just that addictive. I could eat you up if you were here with me. Maybe I'll come visit one of these days..._

_Nah! I doubt Rukia would appreciate that much... but it would be fun, don't you think? Hey, if you're still hopelessly single, I wouldn't mind being with you! It's only wishful thinking, but a girl can dream, right? Well, that's really all I felt like saying. Pretty lame huh? Of course, I really could give a shit. One last thing: I love you, Ichigo!_

* * *

Tatsuki felt only slightly numb. She strained herself heavily to avoid burdening Ichigo further. And yet the man carried on, smiling as if nothing were wrong. His confidence was endearing, his stride almost addictive in quality. With some effort he opened the lock to her door, extending his arm out in offering of a free passage. She stepped in, breathing in deeply the familiar surroundings, the walls and mild decorations. Then she turned to Ichigo with a frown, taking him by the shoulder and pulling him onto her chest.

"You're tired," she whispered, "Get some rest."

Ichigo was silent for some time. Without waiting for any further response, Tatsuki guided him to the couch...

There were so many things she hadn't known... so many things she hadn't seen. To tell the truth, she wasn't even sure she believed the story they'd told her down in that odd basement. The only thing that really mattered was that it was a matter worth shedding tears for—in Ichigo's eyes.

And still the pain lingered. With each spasm through his body she could feel the electrical shocks channel into her own, resisting the pain for as much as her body would allow. "The sun is beginning to rise," Ichigo sighed, turning to his side. Tatsuki failed to smile. It was quiet.

Ichigo's teeth playfully gnawed at her nails. She teased his lips with the tips of her fingers, sighing into the fumes of his head. "You really need to shower," she muttered, "You stink..." Her partner's eyes raised up to her forehead,

"Oh..."

It hadn't been the response she expected it to be.

"You shouldn't feel bad about those kind of things..."

"About what...?"

"You tell me..."

"How would you take it?"

"I don't know," Ichigo closed his eyes, "I'd have to be a tomboy... and then I'd have to suddenly start dating some guy with orange hair."

"I can't help it if I'm scared," she sat up irately. If Ichigo was looking, he was sure there would be bursts of steam issuing from her ears. He could understand her fear. Even though he was the one in pain, it was probably Tatsuki who needed comfort more than anything. Now was not a time to be acting stubborn, but being perceptive wasn't worth much either...

"Haah..." Tatsuki swallowed the painkiller as easily as she had swallowed those candies: she found it nearly impossible. She poured another glass from her tap and consumed it whole, leaning over her counter and breathing heavily. Her entire body was aching. No, not her body... her heart. It hurt so much, she never said a word as Ichigo silently approached her and leaned forward. It had been a long time since they'd ever been this intimate...

In tune to the moment she pushed him back, stepping forward and leaning into his neck. Her body writhed in agonizing ecstasy. Ichigo hoisted her into the air and pushed inward. _Rutile..._ That was the only word she could attribute to the situation.

There was no "dream realm" this time. It wouldn't come... They were alone in _Tatsuki's house_, embracing one another in _Tatsuki's kitchen_. Her head swam in effervescent thoughts, and she felt idly happy. Maybe it was a delusion on her part, but as she fused with Ichigo, she hoped he would share his pessimism with her. She melted like goo when he carried her to the couch.

"You've been filling out," he observed, nipping at her breasts. Her cheeks—flushed red—turned crimson. Involuntarily her hand traversed the expanse of his back and pulled his head inward. Her loud moans filled the room, giving Ichigo the uncanny thought of a hollow. But the reaction pleased him. Hearing her arduous groans forced him to come up and kiss her. Through no will of her own, she began to yank hard at his hair.

Was it really all that bad to seek after pleasure? At times it seemed that one was obligated to scar himself again and again. But to have a break couldn't be so wrong...

Tatsuki was beautiful... He couldn't find any good reason for thinking that way. It bothered him somewhat. She began to synchronize her movements with his own, her heartbeat pounding noticeably against her chest. Each pulse vibrated through his fingers and reminded him that he was alive too. The frontal area of his head began to throb painfully.

"That's right..." Tatsuki smiled mysteriously. Ichigo let himself fall, playfully nibbling a small portion of her skin. He did remember having said anything at all, but he was sure she understood his feelings well. After all, he'd always be there for her. The only thing she had to know what that he was there... To convince himself he said it aloud. Then again. But Tatsuki was already asleep. Her angelic demeanor returned all too suddenly.

As rough and tomboyish as she was, Ichigo still saw her as a girl... as a woman. That innocence that lingered deep inside... he had to protect it with everything he could. He'd lost his own innocence a long time ago. He didn't want Tatsuki to lose her own as well...


	12. Segment XI: Aversion

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

* * *

"It looks like it's really getting to be autumn..."

Orihime's eyes rolled upwards. The blinding afternoon sun did nothing of the positive sort for her migraine. Even her coffee lacked bite today. She couldn't even think of a harsh mental retort in response to Yuta's painfully cheerful optimism, which was strange because normally she jumped at opportunities to take down varied insults in her mind. If only she still had her bottle of pain pills. She could down the whole thing and die a slow painless death.

How had she been talked into this? She didn't even like Yuta, who was idly sipping his tea. Tempting as the smell was, she had her Triple Cappuccino, trademark of her new style. As empty as the cup were, she could still lick at the few drops of remaining foam and bean juice, savoring bitterly the remaining flavor and inhaling the sweet aroma that floated from the stained white walls. She did not resist the firm hand that eased her head down into a soft, denim-coated lap. Her eyes swung away from Yuta's glowing face. The boy merely sighed and closed his eyes.

She had to admit, Yuta's lap made for a good cushion, and it really was getting to be autumn after all. The remnants of her old shell were still crusting off, and it was nice to bathe in such surreal thoughts every once in a while.

"I can smell your perfume..."

Orihime felt herself blush. It took some effort to avoid a heartbroken sigh, and even more willpower to avoid making obvious the fact that he had put her in an embarrassing situation. It was her uncomfortable grunt that gave her away nonetheless, and as he reached down to stroke her forehead she slapped his hand away.

"S-sorry..."

"No, it's just... boundaries..."

Why did he laugh? It almost reminded her of somebody she knew... Yuta chuckled and leaned back. "Well you're already lying in my lap," he mumbled, "so I didn't think it would be so bad if I just stroked your head."

It was too much of a coincidence. Orihime sat up in anger, audibly huffing to vent out frustration. In a moment of déjà vu she growled, "I'm not a dog! Uh—" This time, she did nothing to resist Yuta's forward advance.

"I like cute things though, and I think dogs are cute."

"I-is..." she murmured, "Is that the only reason you like me...?" It occurred to her that it could be Sado in a mask. Wait, why was she thinking of Sado? Why was she even here?! There were three things that didn't fit. One: She was on a date at all. Two: It was a date with Yuta. Three: She was thinking about Sado. No, she _wanted_ to think about Sado...

Impossible... She cared for him? It sounded absolutely absurd, but right now her pulse was racing. After all, it had been almost five days since she'd last seen Sado. His apartment was empty, and he was never at his band practices anymore (she had gone to the trouble of looking). Her answering machine was devoid of any calls that were remotely Sado-like. She could still feel the grains of dirt that had come from his lips.

Was it because Yuta reminded her of Sado? It was impossible, and yet it seemed so possible since, after all, this weak and talkative boy was perhaps the epitome of all nothings _not_ Sado. _I'm beating around the bush_, she struggled to focus on the problem at hand.

Bitter, that was how it tasted. She liked the flavor—it was arousing. The first thing her mind wandered to was Ichigo's face. It lingered for several seconds while she leaned back against the park bench, before being dispelled by Uryu's quiet face. No, that too was a delusion. She'd tasted this before. Coffee... whose coffee?

"Who did you see?" Yuta smiled sheepishly. Scratching the back of his head, he contemplated running away or kissing her again. Would he really run without waiting for an answer? A part of him on the inside wished that she would say his name. But he already knew it was going to be somebody else. It was hopeless as it were, and he was just applying salt to his own wound by waiting around for her to decide. But if he could do anything for her, this would be it. He murmured her name softly, doing his best to match her movements.

The voice was suddenly unnaturally deep. Orihime nearly hiccuped in surprise. _Does he want me to choose somebody else?_ Why did he even care?

Below, the water glimmered the deep hue of crimson. As reflections of the sunset glimmered off of liquid crystal, the image of a man running from the other end of the canal gave off a certain impression. Behind the tightly locked couple, a train of bikes rode by, the young children at front gaping at the sheer audacity. It was a public park—not many dared to engage one another so intimately in a public situation.

The hours went by. As it grew dark, Orihime suddenly realized that she was alone. Yuta had long since left her there on the park bench. She could vaguely recall their short conversation before the boy had taken to his heels. He looked unusually cute as he ran off. A strange calm overtook her, accompanied by the sting of guilt.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this..."

_Supposed to be like what?_ A voice in her head seemed to answer her instantaneously.

Rather than answer, Orihime drowned herself in deep thought again. After some time, she replied wearily, "I don't know... I don't know anymore..."

_What is it that you don't know?_

"Uh—huh...?"

_Or are you going to run away from everything again, just like you always do...?_

She could still feel Yuta's lips on hers. She was changing the subject again... Tsubaki was probably laughing at her, she could feel it. Orihime felt spiteful: At least Tsubaki had somebody who would comfort him in solace. From the sky above, the moonlight faded away behind the clouds. She could no longer recall what it was that she had been searching for all this time.

Ichigo... she wondered what he was doing now. Maybe she would surprise him with a visit, just leap onto him from the moment he opened the door. How the silent girl so strongly desired to be who she had once been. It would be so much easier to just go back to those days... those Halcyon Days.

"Orihime..."

Alarmed, she flung herself from the bench and turned around. Blackness shrouded her vision, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw further still that the park was just that: black. She was alone, and probably wasn't even allowed to be here at this time of the night. "Hey," she mumbled. "Talk to me..." But as much as she prompted her inner voice to speak again, it would not. She strained her ear for any indication of life other than her own and those of the slumbering residents—to no avail, but comforting in effort alone.

She already knew what her mind was trying to tell her. Yet there was no way to really live with that answer. She was still so caught up, so tangled. Her heart was still chained to the ground, with no evident form of escape or refuge, both appreciated if available. For a moment Orihime really wanted to believe that she could, but...

...her heart was too distracted to think about Ichigo right now.


	13. Segment XII: Connection Severed

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

As of November 16, 2007, the following reference(s) are to be included for credit: the pillows; FLCL (USA); Furi Kuri (Japan); Geneon; Pioneer

* * *

How many times had they played at this point? He was beginning to wonder for himself if he'd ever broken a rule. It was none of his business what she decided to do, and it wasn't as though she'd broken any rules anyway.

Who did he see when he closed his eyes? Whose name did he whisper within his mind? For a moment he suspected it was Orihime, but it wasn't her face that had been ingrained on his eyelids—no, her face was just becoming a little bit clearer. Perhaps Ran'Tao's efforts had been in vain after all...

A mild reflection. It wasn't really anything important after all. Even _with_ Yoshino's memories, it hadn't been Yoshino. In the end that had been the cause of death: stress. But he had loved her as much as he had Yoshino. He might have had feelings for Ran'Tao as well at one point. But those days were gone now. It was pointless in wasting energy trying to keep alive that which was dead.

Of course, it wasn't that he had feelings for Orihime either. She was just a girl, beautiful as she was. _Even so_, he realized,_ I don't want to use her anymore... not like this._ Lying before him in a sweaty heap, Orihime Inoue had passed out from the strain. Tears rolled down her cheek, and her face was a nauseating contortion of happiness and pain. _Poetic,_ he noted to a point. Prose and poesy weren't his strong suit.

In silence he retreated, and in silence he shut the door behind him. Sighing, he reached for the now cold coffee mug, draining it heartily and supressing a violent lurch. He liked his coffee extremely bitter, and mixed it accordingly. It did not make for a good beverage cold.

Father wouldn't be home for some time. He suddenly felt inclined to call him up and talk to him about everything. _Bah!_ As if the bastard gave a damn. And just the same he had his eyes on the phone. Something inside of him was bubbling. The last few nights with Orihime had been different. She stopped hurting him, and stopped looking at his body, instead closing her eyes and visualizing the strange man in her mind. She was aware of this too—it wasn't something she was doing unconsciously. The noise had stopped as well.

Uryuu felt his left shoulder, running his fingers over the long and deep scar. From the first time they had played the game. In agony Orihime had dug into his back with her nails, grinding the same spot again and again. In retaliation he had bruised her legs from roughness. He suddenly regretted that now... An even deeper sigh now, quite far from complacency.

"Perhaps..." he muttered. "Perhaps I ought to meet with him..."

Just then he felt someone pull him around. Orihime spread her legs before him, eyes blankly staring at his face. Something about her told him that she would have her way no matter what. He honestly didn't care... It was a game after all.

* * *

"You seem to be looking well..."

The vein in his temple began to rise. "Unusually casual, aren't you?" Ichigo stabbed pointedly. Without turning around he tossed a coffee cup into the air and continued to stare down at his soda. With contempt he grunted, "Black right? Extra bitter like you asked..."

The tall hulking mask of dark, sinewy skin sat next to him and took a long quaff. Ichigo grimaced and averted a dark stare. "It's getting cold," he mumbled, savoring in the warmth of hot coffee dripping down his throat.

"Well maybe if you stopped wearing those damn golf shirts," Ichigo opened his sweater somewhat, clearly uncomfortable.

Sado sighed, "Yuzu's doing?" He indicated some of the well disguised animal-shaped patches that decorated various parts of the gaudy piece. Carrot-top muttered something of a curse and took another sip of his iced beverage. He seemed almost dead, listless and lacking life. He made a note of it and finished his drink. "Three gulps..."

"What, you want another one?" The words seemed hollow, a desperate attempt to fill in the gaping void between the two. Ichigo was sure Sado was already over the confrontation earlier in their summer, but he wasn't. The man had been making a hobby of meddling, and he didn't appreciate it too much. Besides, who wore Hawaiian shirts towards winter anyway? And still he had the audacity to complain. He watched Sado order another cup from the counter, himself sinking into the ice and carbonation and sugary sweetness.

"I see you have a bruise," he observed a dark mark on his neck. The moment he did, the man swung the seat 'round so as to avoid exposing it. Ichigo smirked and murmured, "Touchy today..." Then, sitting up and crunching audibly on an ice cube he turned his sharp eyes to Sado's face, "Or is that a bite mark?"

"Have you seen Orihime lately?"

"Uh—w-what?"

Clearly he hadn't been expecting this. _No, it's my interrogation right now._ He only hoped he wouldn't have to use up his reserve courage to face it. Bracing himself he pushed on. "It's that simple," he tried to sound casual, "Have you seen Orihime lately?"

"What makes you ask that?"

"Is it really important to know?" Sado tried to keep Ichigo in a corner, "Or are you afraid?"

Ichigo smirked. "Do you want me to be afraid?"

"Well," the adversary gulped down more coffee, "What would you be afraid of—_assuming _you were afraid of something?" He gave a long and hard stare at Ichigo who, with caution chose his words in his head. It was obvious now what he was getting at, and there was no longer a need to stretch out a point. Wasted effort, he felt. And in any case Ichigo would get it sooner or later. The boy was dense, not stupid, and this was an honest compliment, of the few Sado could really imagine up. Was self dialogue really necessary right now?

"I guess," Ichigo murmured half-heartedly, "If I wasn't already dating, I'd be mad at you." He stared at Sado blankly, waiting for the response.

"That's a lie," Sado's fist thudded upon the table and drew a few eyes. "You've never loved Orihime, so I doubt you'd care now."

"So your antithesis is that I hate her? Isn't that a smart thing to say?"

"You're no better for acting so passively until now."

"I thought you said I could write my own speech, or are you retracting that offer?" Above Ichigo's head a swallow perched itself upon his hair. He gazed malevolently at it and decided to ignore its very existence.

"Is it so hard to simply tell her?" It was a futile change of tact, but he had no other option.

Ichigo stood up and discarded his empty cup, stopping as he watched the small animal nestle snugly into his hair. Now he waved at it, in silence retreating towards the general direction of his dwelling. A long silence ensued as he stopped a second time to watch the stars gradually twinkling into monotonous existence above.

Then he turned around and asked the question that neither of them had been willing to ask:

"What would you have me say?"

Lamed, Sado ordered yet another cup of coffee, too ashamed to even cast a final glance at the fading silhouette. Truth be told he did know what to say to Orihime, how to tell her about everything that she had known about for ages. But there was a flip-side: he wasn't Ichigo. As the customers began to vanish one-by-one, he repeated the question to himself, for what it really was worth.

"How will _I_, _Ichigo Kurosaki_, tell Orihime?"


	14. Segment XIII: Nightmare Fantasy

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

As of November 16, 2007, the following reference(s) are to be included for credit: the pillows; FLCL (USA); Furi Kuri (Japan); Geneon; Pioneer

* * *

_Yuzu whimpered in embarrassment. The only man she'd ever been bare in front of was her father, and that had been at a very young age. Even then, she'd never been held so tightly before, not even—as she could recall—by mom. Even Karin had never squeezed her this tightly, and Karin squeezed tight when she hugged... No, no touch could ever make her body quiver with delight as his did. No touch ever made her legs writhe so madly that she wanted to rip them off._

_"——" she uttered his name and recoiled in shock. "——" she said it again._

_His lips moved, but no words came out. Instinctively she felt nonsense bubble about in her ears, and she somehow understood what he was saying. "——, please!" she moaned helplessly, "Mmph! Mmm..." Were kisses supposed to feel this way? She felt sticky and slippery all at the same time, like she was coated in lard or something. Even though the thought repulsed her she called upon it further, yelping repeatedly as he dug his hand into that area... whatever it was called. She barely remembered what her sexual education class had taught her about it._

_Then he leaned back onto the wall behind him and let her fall upon him. He brought her ear to his lips, and she shivered as cold mist brushed against her red hot skin. "——" she groaned out, flinching at the stroke of a finger. He was whispering nonsense again, and she felt comforted. Without any warning he plunged, and she bit hard into his neck as pain flashed through her entire body. Her nailed curled and dug deep into his back, while blood began to dribble down his clavicle._

_But he did not stop, and as she relaxed herself she began to feel strangely whole. In moments she was screaming, and the fury of her cries only served to increase his fervor in the effort. How many times had she spasmed now? She could hardly count the hours that had gone by. No one had ever told her it felt this good. Everything was swirling around in some ethereal nightmare, and she was beginning to lose track of the time which she had never grasped in the first place—not something she was used to doing—and even now was slowly forgetting, forgetting, forgetting. Fragments coming together in her mind made her think about all of the things that she'd ever—_

* * *

"!" Yuzu sat up and immediately vomited, swallowing down the bile and passing out from lack of oxygen, writhing in pain from the first migraine in her life and wiping away the cold sweat that had been haunting her for the last week.

They were getting worse... Each night was becoming more and more vivid than the previous one. Last night had been in the woods, and today, it had been at school. None of it made sense, and she struggled to understand what made her loathe and desire the experience so strongly. The nameless face that appeared in her dreams never changed, and she always knew what his name was.

"Ichigo..." she turned to the door ajar and discerned the light shining through it. His door was open, and she could hear the sound of bedsprings creaking as her elder brother rolled over in his bed. He was home...

It was a comforting sentiment. She rose silently and reached out for the glass of water that sat in pitch black on the bedside table to the left. Forcing the liquid down her throat, it tasted like sand on a cold day. She didn't know how she knew what it tasted like, but those were the thoughts that floated about her head when she tried to pick a flavor. Frowning, she realized that last night's indulgence of painkillers had been the last of the bottle—dad had been complaining about it this morning.

Someone was watching her. Yuzu swung completely around and stared at Karin's shadowy outline. Almost immediately the sensation faded, but the hairs on the back of her neck stood up alertly. She turned to the door, suspecting that Ichigo might be watching her at that very moment. Nothing there either.

All else would have to be from the window, which stood wide open and blew in refreshing air into the stale room. She was glad for Karin's carelessness for once.

"Hey, Kon," she murmured quietly. Back in bed, she held the lifeless doll that had once fought alongside her sibling, wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye. The stuffed lion did nothing in response, contrary to her expectations, and further reinforced her fear that it would never speak to her again. In denial she muttered again, "Kon... Do you mind if I call you Bostov again?" She planted a playful kiss upon its cheek, half hoping he might start squirming out of shock and embarrassment.

Still nothing. She sighed and tossed the doll angrily onto the same bedside table to which was devoted to that empty glass of water. Now it had another purpose.

She wouldn't get out of bed tonight. She _couldn't_ get out of bed tonight. She _absolutely would not under any circumstance_ get out of her bed. It was bad enough that she was experiencing odd dreams, but she didn't want to wake up and find Ichigo wasn't next to her again. That's how it always was, even when she was a child. He never bothered to wake her up when he left, and he never would. No, she would not get out of bed tonight. Not again.

Very subtly, the floorboards shifted under her light footsteps, as the light from the door grew ever brighter...

* * *

"H-hang on now. Why are we going here again?"

"...it's an order from Urahara..."

"And why do we have to _walk_?!"

"...it's an order from Urahara..."

Ririn struck Cloud's shin with her heel, grinning cheerfully at the sound of his exasperated cries. Nova blushed slightly at the feel of her teeth against his nape, and made no reply as Ririn sang out passionately, depicting some odd circumstance of boredom in their relationship. Though Nova chuckled and smiled, Cloud was in no mood for humor.

"Say," Ririn asked—a rare moment of seriousness, "Do you think she still remembers us?"

Nova shrugged, looking up at the moon. He looked down at a small green doll that he could remember all too well. As soon as he acknowledged it, Ririn put it away and pulled out a dirty white rabbit, tossing it to Cloud, this time making the question verbal.

"Maybe we should show up like this, don't you think?"

Cloud scratched his head and nodded weakly, "Well, yeah... She probably won't recognize us since our original gigais were destroyed. One thing..." He raised the fabric to his nose and sniffed it. "How come you kept yours and Nova's clean, while mine is as dirty as a gutter rat?!" he pointed angrily at the cute little bird with blue bonnet.

"Ririn and I cleaned ours ourselves," Nova pulled his out of her bag and raised it into the air, playing with its arms and making it perform battle poses. "You left yours in a box. You ought to thank her for going to the trouble of finding it." Ririn raised her fist victoriously, leaving Cloud to mope pathetically.

"We're here..."

They all looked up. It didn't look much different from how it had first appeared years ago, although there were less flowers now, and it looked as though the lawn hadn't been tended for quite some time. Of course, it wasn't the same old shabby little condominium either, but that was even more ancient. So many memories here, especially of the Arrancar...

"Well, aren't you going to knock?" Ririn stabbed Cloud with a steely gaze. Before he could retort, the porch light switched on, and the door opened to reveal an all too familiar face.

"Hello...?"


	15. Segment XIV: Nonsense Memoirs

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

As of November 16, 2007, the following reference(s) are to be included for credit: the pillows; FLCL (USA); Furi Kuri (Japan); Geneon; Pioneer

* * *

_I was bewildered and crying... when I realized at the corner of a toy store—my mom had disappeared. Although a kind stranger had been trying to talk to me, I didn't listen to anything he was telling me._

Ichigo looked down at the slumbering figure of his younger sister, Yuzu, who held his body and nestled her head into his chest. For how long she had been there, he didn't know, and it was fairly early in the morning as well. The sun was still quietly illuminating the night sky, and the stars were slowly vanishing from existence. Almost like a phoenix...

_Even now, a similar kind of insecurity follows me. There are certainly unbearable incidents that happen. No matter how lonely I am, no one would come for me anyway. They don't do announcements for lost children anymore. You usually don't find those kind of promises beyond closed doors. But I go anyway, because I know what I'll find._

As he clambered through the window, he exhaled softly and watched the mist condense on the glass. Karin would wake her up when the sun rose, and it was a weekend, so his sister could afford to sleep in. He could remember when "she" used to do that... Inexplicably, he always awoke with her next to him, arms encircling, warm breath sending a chill through his spine.

Raven-black hair filled his mind's eye. Blue irises gazed into his from some hazy horizon. He visualized a familiar name. Ichigo sighed, leaping to the ground and staring up at the window. Right now, at this very moment, he would give anything to catch "her" thin frame, and smell "her" shampoo as it wafter from "her" hair. "I thought I'd already told myself I was over her," he mumbled bitterly.

_Many of your smiling faces filled the pages in that photo album I never had. We're so far apart, and I don't even receive any letters from you... Not now anyway._

Now the sun was beginning to rise. He was going to be late if he didn't hurry. Perhaps he'd catch a bus, but he had been hoping to be able to avoid that. Starting off at a run, Ichigo Kurosaki looked up at the blood sky. "I guess I'm not ready to let go yet." The bus doors closed with an audible clack, and with gusto the engine shot out a burst of hot steam.

* * *

_It's as though I've got something on my glasses, no matter where I look. Unchanging landscapes... It disappoints me today, too. What kind of system is everyone using to control their emotions? I feel as if I'm going insane—I'm going to start crying—but, I guess that means I'm sane after all... If I were in your world, I wouldn't even be able to board those packed trains..._

"Thinking nonsense again?"

"Shut up..."

"So what made you come back so early? You aren't done with your assignment yet, as I understand..."

"I had some extra time on my hands..." she averted his benevolent gaze, blushing slightly.

"You forgot to bring the mod soul, didn't you?"

"N-no... I..."

"Oh, so you missed me then, did you?" he leaned forward and insisted himself on to her, grinning as she pushed him away and stepped to the edge of the cliff.

"Don't be absurd. I said I had free time, so I have free time..."

"And you're spending it, of all places, in _Soul Society_? Ha! The council must feel a lot of pride in having a loyal resident."

"Shut up..." she leaned back and groaned.

"You already said that." He closed his eyes and parted her lips.

"Just shut up and kiss me!" She pulled him against her and pressed her back against the large boulder.

_I used to ride on your shoulders every day, and we ran anywhere we could after school. In my dream... until daybreak—_

"Still thinking nonsense?" he folded his arms and feigned cool, rubbing the bottom of his nose at her angry glare.

"I don't think I have to explain it to you..." She sounded warm, though she tried to give off her coldest stare.

The Fifth Squad Captain called out to her as she began to fall out of earshot, "So when am I going to be Renji Abarai again?!"

* * *

She was beginning to grow ill disposed towards the gabbling girls across the corner discount store. The bitterness of her coffee wasn't satisfying her craving for alcohol either, and obvious in itself, was making ever more vivid the pain of her migraine. Christ, she could be at a bar right now, drinking herself into a coma. If she could only taste the amber liquid that forced her lips to curl, she could remember the old times so clearly, and ditch the pain all at the same time.

"Maybe I'm a masochist," Hiyori Sarugaki mumbled absently. She seemed drawn to the idea of it all: sinking into deep depression amongst other sad sacks of society—perhaps meeting one slightly decent jackass, and maybe letting herself be played into bed. It was all the same anyway. Sex felt good without the love, and she had her imagination to remind her of Ichigo...

"No way—that has to be an imitation!"

"It's real! Check out the signature on the crys—"

_God this is so irritating!_ As she dove into a pool of self-serving guilt, there was a datum in the back of her head that told her that seventy-four percent of all girls in Japan prefer to shop at "Amorous Orange" than any other store clothing store. All the more reason to loathe it. Hiyori was not the type of girl who found anything to appreciate in such extravagant luxuries, and was even less the type to do so on a passing fancy. No, she absolutely hated fashion. Ironically enough, the velvet red dress and hair tie she wore had come from "Amorous Orange"...

Great, now she was becoming romantic. It wasn't like she had actually enjoyed her first and only trip to a clothing store. Thinking about it now seemed extremely silly to her, but her heart began to race as she remembered the taste of saliva that clung stubbornly to her lips. Delicately she raised the valuable piece to eye level and stared longingly at it.

"Mmm... if only I was alone I could..." Hiyori smacked her lipstick hungrily as she relived that day. Her fang rubbed affectionately against her own tongue, and the expensive gem that was embedded in the article's pedestal flickered in the bright sunlight. "This bracelet... It's been so damn long that I've already forgotten why I keep it... It's nothing more than an obsessive turn-on now."

She let it drop, and it jingled attractively, urging her to pick it up a second time. Before she could consider the thought, a large thud drew her attention away. There was a crowd gathering around the source of the noise, and due forth she was unable to view for herself the spectacle. Her eyes wandered left and right while rapid thoughts traversed her mind. _Fruitcake said I could go anywhere, so long as I stayed in the plaza..._ Quickly she got up, eager to stretch her long unused human legs.

"Oh!" came the cry. Hiyori fell back into her seat, and before her a young raven-haired girl recoiled. Rubbing her eyes and standing upright, she bowed apologetically, "S-sorry... wasn't looking where I was going." Before Hiyori could retort, the stranger's eyes darted away. Without waiting she ran off yelling, "Strawberry! Hey!"

"..."

In any event, she had forgotten what she had been planning to do. Perhaps she would grab another cup of coffee. Still meditating, Hiyori's legs took her towards "Amorous Orange"...


	16. Segment XV: Bonhuer Terminé

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

As of November 16, 2007, the following reference(s) are to be included for credit: the pillows; FLCL (USA); Furi Kuri (Japan); Geneon; Pioneer

* * *

"Well, that's just odd..."

Someone had called his name, he was sure of it. As he had turned the corner he heard the familiar nickname. Now that he looked though, all he could see were the shoppers congregating here or there, talking, walking, and doing everything otherwise characteristic of the stereotypical tourist. Aside from the parlor musician, there were no other indications of anything attempting to grab his attention. Deciding finally to continue about his task, he continued down along the alleyway and proceeded into the second square.

Come to think of it, he had no idea where "Irresve" actually was, or _what_ it was. He had asked an information kiosk, only to be told that "Irresve" didn't exist. When he insisted, it was shown that the name wasn't even found on local search pages, which he found odd. "Don't tell me the bastard lied to me again," Ichigo Kurosaki pursed his lips together.

It wasn't entirely uncommon for Kisuke Urahara to pull a sick joke, and even less so for manipulating people. If this was another ploy to teach him something, or bestow some odd gift, he didn't find it very enjoyable. Still, if it was from Urahara, it was probably important. These days he rarely had contact from the soul society, if any at all.

He had the sneaking suspicion that Irresve was most likely a place through which only spiritually aware beings who were in the know of such sorts could enter. Or maybe it was an incantation at some poetically related location—he really didn't know. He was wasting time, and would soon be late for his appointment. If only Kisuke had been more specific in his letter. But, quoting the obnoxious prophet: "Wait at Irresve for the fifty-fifth strike."

Fifty-five strikes on a grandfather clock meant two in the afternoon, and a grandfather clock referred to one of the five squares in the plaza. However, Irresve remained an ever unsolvable clue, and it was now ten minutes to two.

* * *

"...mmm...!"

Tatsuki clicked her tongue angrily. She was quite sure she hadn't been dreaming. Then again, perhaps she was still hazy what with all the happenings recently. Even then, there was still the chance it had been a simple mistake. She was running a personal errand after all, and seldom went out for such reasons on her own. That's what it had been. Just a mistake...

Her head was swimming with romantic thoughts. _Christ, I've become one of them... _It comforted her to know she still had at least one cynical accusation to apply, but it paled in comparison to the awkward lacy thoughts. She was traveling uncharted waters now, meditating on some feminine desire or instinct. This went beyond love too: she felt like taking showers (more for the sake of beauty than for the sake of hygiene), worried about her appearance, and constantly fretted over the tiniest matters. It wasn't anything close to her idea of a graceful woman in high society, but it served the role enough for satisfaction.

_There!_ She dug her nail into her palm, catching herself in a moment of girlishness as she nervously patted her hair. Just the idea of Ichigo being nearby made her feel so on edge now. She had to stop diving into this poisonous vibe before it consumed her whole...

"Miss Arisawa..."

Tatsuki looked up suddenly. For a moment, Ichigo's piercing gaze overtook her, and she felt her chest flutter lightly as if in another dream._Another_ dream, she snorted to herself, _if only_. Reality set in, and she was well aware that only one person would address her so dully. Sado Yasutora appeared to be, characteristically enough, working once again. Funny... She still couldn't tack Sado down as a blue collar, as much as he acted as such.

"How's the job?"

"It's doing alright..."

"And life?"

"...I could ask the same of you."

She giggled and looked around. After scanning her environment several times to she turn to Sado again. "Say, since you work here, do you know of any good stores to get a gift for somebody?" she blushed as she asked. Sado raised an eyebrow, and it took all of her might to stop herself from rifling through her hair.

"Actually I'm off right now..." a poor attempt at bridging the rift in conversation.

She nodded shyly, "Oh... I assumed because of the flyers that you—"

"Have you seen Orihime today...?"

"Oh, no. Why? Do you need me to tell her something for you?"

"It's not that... She doesn't answer her phone..."

Tatsuki looked left, and then right, as if to point out Orihime from somewhere in the crowd. The pressure felt unbearable at this point. There was something slightly crazed about Sado's manner that made her very uncomfortable.

A lot of things made her feel uncomfortable now. She had the sensation that she was on fire at times, or maybe had some gaudy or ugly object attached to her somewhere and, especially when Ichigo was around, that she herself wasn't pretty. She wondered if Orihime ever felt this. _Wow, I've really been neglecting her... I mean, she hasn't complained, but I really should see her._ The truth was they had actually gone out about one week before. But such excursions were now so rare that she hardly ever dared the consider the consequences of going out more—or in this case—less.

But Orihime was always her cheery self. Whenever they did go out, she seemed to have changed little. She now no longer talked of Ichigo, which Tatsuki assumed to be a good thing. It would make it easier to tell Orihime about things if she wasn't in love with him. _Wait... maybe Ichigo already told her?_ It would explain that oddly complacent behavior of hers. One hardly ever knew what actually went on in her mind, such as the random episodes she would have almost daily of fighting strange beasts and whatnot.

Then again it wasn't all that strange. Apparently, Ichigo had actually fought said beasts. That meant he was strong. Frankly it all amazed her. Happenings of that magnitude would be hard to swallow, but talking about it brought a few memories back.

In her absence of awareness Tatsuki found herself in a stranger part of the plaza. There was a jewelry store, and a few randomly placed food shops, as well as a large department store and a nice floral arrangement decorated around a rectangular pattern of fountains. One could actually walk past the founds and wade about half a centimeter in water, as if that was anything. It was a very old part of Karakura's now large and famous park plaza.

As she walked about at leisure, she started to look for Ichigo again. More on her mind than a gift for Ichigo, was Ichigo. A flash of orange—she looked.

"Is that Orihime?"

Some distance away, a young, red-haired girl dressed in overly thick articles, ran after something—someone—in desperation. "W-wait!" came the familiarly awkward cry. But it was not directed at Tatsuki or, for her view, anyone else that was apparently familiar. Orihime ran down another alleyway after the unknown and vanished, leaving Tatsuki to stare.

It didn't last long. In moments, she was gone as well


	17. Segment XVI: Middlewoman

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

As of November 16, 2007, the following reference(s) are to be included for credit: the pillows; FLCL (USA); Furi Kuri (Japan); Geneon; Pioneer

* * *

Did they always have such high prices? She never knew that something as simple as perfume could really be so expensive. It didn't even seem worth it now that she smelled it, the strawberry scented perfume didn't really seem worth it. Oh yes, they hadn't gone for the candy feel, but an actual strawberry scent that was laced with pheromones and alcoholic undertones. Hiyori sighed down-heartedly, feeling remorse for herself.

It would have meant something if Ichigo had been the one to buy it. Her plans to buy other items for herself had gone down the drain, for she found when she attempted to purchase her merchandise, that it went well over her spending limit and into her budget for living in the human world. Sad...

Her eyes wandered to the bag, expensively decorated and acclaimed to use actual silk in the lacing and handle. It had been offered free and, already disconcerted at the high price, took it as if to smite the capitalist Soul Society of the human world. Her efforts were in vain, she knew, but easing regardless. Now all she could do was make it last, and its effects were nothing short of artificial. Maybe if Ichigo had been wearing it she would desire it more, but there weren't even tingles, apart from naughty thoughts about the man of her dreams. _Interesting adjective_, she noted.

Oh, screw it. She was in no mood for any more of this narration. The story sucked and the writer sucked, and reality was all some happy little nightmare in the middle of a grassy meadow. Repetitive lines and plot holes were all her life was good for. She had never even played an important role in the fantastic adventures of the great Ichigo Kurosaki. A rumor? A wives tale? Nothing...

The sound of running water filled her ears. She wasn't near any streams though. Exactly as to why she thought of a running stream was unknown to her, for she had never seen one save those images on television. Some corny report on fishing or pollution—whichever it was was hardly a concern to her. In reality she was standing in front of a set of grand fountains. _I've never been here before_, she realized, glancing about like a lost child.

That name... was just irritating. Who the hell names their child such a thing? Even a last name of the sort was just absurd. She murmured unto her own lips just for the pleasure.

"Irresve," they said together.

In calm silence, Ichigo and Hiyori looked upon one another again.

"Hello..."

* * *

"You actually spent the spirit energy needed to find me...? I must admit I'm impressed..."

"Why are you running away from me?" Orihime Inoue gasped heavily. The sweat poured down her skin as if spawned from a shower head, and incapable of maintaining her self-discipline she leaped onto Uryuu with such a fervor that almost knocked him to the pavement.

In a same type of excitement he knocked her away, watching coldly as she let herself plop onto the ground, no doubt so weak as to the strain of tracking someone under _his_ aura. _Damn you, Ichigo. You always get the good ones, while I get everyone who dies. I swear, in the end you break their hearts anyway._ He attempted to step out of the alley they were in, which was dank and unpleasant. To do that, he had to walk by Orihime, who now blankly stared at his feet upon the ground.

She grabbed his leg as he tried anyway, desperately clinging to him. "You're not really saying that after all of this, you're not going to play?" she tried to sound cute... alluring. The act failed, drawing out not the appearance of a desperate you girl, but of a prostitute. That was all she was now, and Uryuu Ishida could not love a prostitute, much less have intercourse with one. Heavens, he was addressing it as if it were a person. Utter madness unto itself. Hypocrisy of the worst kind, to be sure, and no doubt she was aware.

"What is it about me that you find attractive...?" he thought aloud, expecting no answer, yet hoping for one. As suspicions were, he was correct. She merely lifted her view to match his own, but did nothing to comfort his aching heart.

Not one to dally, she again prompted the prospect of sex. Orihime groaned, closing her eyes and muttering a single name in her mind. Uryuu sensed it, not that he had to, but the feeling so scarred him that he could no longer bear it. She wanted to play "the game", but for some reason he was unwilling. "Has the world gone mad," she voiced softly, "or have you stopped liking our game?"

"What is it about me that you find attractive?" Uryuu asked again. This time he wanted an answer, and expected to get one if he were ever to discard Orihime once and for all. Or perhaps truly, he was merely discarding himself. Maybe he was recycling himself. What was he doing with Orihime then? He didn't know... He didn't want to know. He didn't know... He didn't know... He didn't know...

"Tell me you want to stop. Rule number five: If at any time a player wishes to stop, the game is over. If you want to stop, then say it."

The truth was, he didn't want it to stop. But he was referring to something elsewhere, that had no existence in the real world... "Am I really that repulsive to you?"

"Am I ugly? Am I disgusting? Am I some monster that you nor anyone else can bear to look at without forming some sweet pathetic lie to get through the day? Is that really what I am? Unlovable? Where do I belong in this world? In a garbage dump, or the darkest pits of hell? Tell me Orihime: Am I really so unattractive to you that you would so desperately cling to this little game of ours? I'm really starting to wonder myself if I would be worth the trouble were I in your shoes.

"Do you think I enjoy hurting you? If you do, well let me inform you: I don't. No, I love you so much that I convinced myself to hurt you, if only to love you a little bit less. Do you hear me Orihime? I'm in love with you! Is that what it will take? Will you love something as ugly as me? Just forget about Ichigo! He's worthless anyway! Love me! Look at me!"

Silence the whole time. She never said a word. And now that he had emptied all of his anger, he was just an empty shell again, the way it should have been. Perhaps at one point, saying those words would have been the truth of the world. But to where his memories traveled were times in which she was untouchable. Staring into his eyes with an idiotic look made him realize that this was not the Orihime who he played the game with. No, now she was using her front. And just like that, she giggled happily and kissed him, as if he had never said anything.

"As long as we're both lying, let's play 'kay?"

* * *

Footsteps. Tatsuki hid behind a pile of garbage bags, forsaking her nose for a false sense of honor. As soon as the noises vanished, she walked quietly after them, glancing around at the plaza and, seeing their absence present (a twist of words, simply to comfort herself), headed towards the fountains. "I feel like vomiting now..." she groaned. But before she could flounder about, she was forced to look up at the sound of a familiar voice.

"What are you—"

"—shut up...! Just hold still for a moment..."

"Ichigo!" Again, Tatsuki dived for cover. Tilting her ear towards the young man in the arms of another woman. She could already feel her heart begin to sink.


	18. Segment XVII: Idle Momentary

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature auduences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

As of November 16, 2007, the following reference(s) are to be included for credit: the pillows; FLCL (USA); Furi Kuri (Japan); Geneon; Pioneer

* * *

"So, I guess we're still doing this then...?"

"It's to prove we're not in love with each other... Mmm..."

Ichigo stumbled backward slightly. She was really putting herself into it. Was she really this desperate to see him? He almost felt obligated to return the favor, but restrained himself on account of lacking passion. Guilty as charged, a judge would say, and then convict him for using such a ridiculous expression.

"Or at least—" she interrupted his thought process, "—to prove that _you're_ not in love with me." Then, burying her nose into his neck, Hiyori groaned his name, followed by, "_God_ you smell better than any perfume..." Ichigo chuckled as she snuggled his body.

"You haven't changed a bit..."

She backed away, sighing. "So fruitcake tells me you're in love. Is that true?"

"In some ways, yes..."

"Meaning to say...?"

Hiyori was playing dumb now. Ichigo frowned and muttered something indistinctly, turning away and nudging his former lover. Her eyes began to glitter with what Ichigo knew were tears, and though they looked like they would ooze over and fall, he knew she was too proud to cry, even alone. All the same, he wished she would so that he could actually blame himself. The young girl licked her fang absentmindedly, a sign that she still craved for his touch. "I remember when that used to work on you," she forced herself to giggle like a girl, and then grimaced with sickness.

"Oh, god, how the time flies. Do you really hate me that much now? Have you forgotten everything we did? It's Rukia isn't it? Tell me, Ichigo... It's Rukia right? She's the one who holds your heart..."

In the gap, Ichigo occupied his time with the white bag, which glittered in the sunlight and caught his eye. "Irresve..." he mumbled, bringing a hand to his forehead and stroking it tightly.

The light reflecting off of the building-high water flashed in and out of existence, weaving a pattern of gray in criss-cross fashion. It was odd to look at, and nostalgic in a certain sense. All too strongly did it wreak of their forlorn tryst. So long ago...

Oh so long ago...

* * *

"You're T—..."

Instinctively Tatsuki had knelt down to pick up the dropped groceries. Now she stared up in awkward shock. One good way to wake oneself up in the morning was to see someone whom they hadn't seen in decades. That was how this felt. A chance encounter felt so unlikely at this point. She struggled to remember. _Who is this woman?_ She chanted to herself. She was sure that those blank eyes and foreign stare had pointed upon her own at some point—she just couldn't remember where...

"—Oh, no! I'm so sorry!"

The stranger appeared as a high schooler, or perhaps a very young lady, giving off the impression of "esteemed innocence" like a bad bar of soap. And yet there was something humorous and familiar about her short and scrawny appearance. The aura she gave off was that of unspoken sadness, and at the same time the profile in whole would most likely say "recently married" if one were to question marital status.

Out of curiosity Tatsuki glanced. It was there, on her left hand: a silver ring in all of its simplicity, rimmed in blue diamond much like her own. The small trinket jingled on its perch, and she couldn't help but look down at her tri-star necklace.

"It's nice... May I see it?"

The newlywed knelt down and examined the beautiful gems embedded into the piece, offering her fingers to cradle the glittering wonder. Then she looked into Tatsuki eyes for a long moment, as if reading something in an entry diary. Tatsuki looked away and blushed helplessly, avoiding the stare, but clearly not upset, but more honored than anything else. "Oh, I'm so sorry," the maiden stood up again and bowed in an ultra-respective Japanese manner, unlike anything Tatsuki had ever seen in person before. Then, like a white china doll, the maiden introduced herself...

"Rukia Kuchiki... It's nice to meet you." A grin, "And you are?'

"T-Tatsuki Arisawa," she stuttered shyly. This woman was far from girlish ways, and yet remained so elegant and adult-like. There was some untold battle wound about her, and her eyes bespoke an underlying nature of firm authority. They demanded respect, something she had seen all too often before... Ichigo was like this.

Her mind's eye glanced behind her, and in doing so she failed to notice Rukia's own pervading gaze in the same direction. They were still talking, this "Hiyori"... She sighed deeply and finished collecting what few items were left. Perhaps it was the strain of remaining silent, or maybe she was so dismayed that she would take to nitpicking simple things. Miss Kuchiki's items seemed to consist mainly of rabbit-themed food and orange juice. Clearly she was a rabbit aficionado, but what was more intriguing was the nature of familiarity she knew they shared.

Rukia smiled and looked down into the face that she hadn't seen in ages. It was fuzzy and distant, but she could remember it well. To think that this girl, out of every woman Ichigo had ever discarded because of herself... _What a liar... She's nothing like me._ Then she stifled that irresistible urge to laugh obnoxiously, just to catch his attention. Not in front of Tatsuki anyway. "It's a nice name," she commented, her smiling broadening innocently.

"S-say, would you like to get some coffee? In apology for the accident just now..."

_Oh? Straightforward... honest... readable..._ But Rukia smiled nonetheless and nodded. It was probably a better idea to get out of here. Surely Ichigo had noticed her own aura, but in the emotional distress, Rukia could feel Tatsuki's flaring against the omnipresent.

As they made their way out of the old district and into the newer ones, Rukia pretended not to notice Ichigo's hardened gaze. Out of the corner of her mouth she murmured silently,

"What will you do now, Ichigo Kurosaki...?"

* * *

On the other end, he enjoyed being spurred. It felt like reprisal for failing to notice Tatsuki even while she was pouring out aura from her ears. So be it: at some point he would have to explain. Exactly how long Tatsuki had been watching, he didn't know, and Hiyori wasn't aware of her either. In fact, he had to explain to Hiyori too, for the girl hardly knew Tatsuki.

Well, it would have had to come to this point at one time or another...

"What do you say we go shopping, for old times sake?"

"Again...? I don't feel like it..."

"You know I can't do that, Hiyori... You _know_..."

"Yeah, well... You could at least lie to me once in a while."

Hiyori Sarugaki was the only girl to whom he had never told a lie, which was ironic, since they had been forbidden lovers engaging in a romantic tryst from the very start. And from the beginning, he'd made it clear to her that he was only using her... Even so...

"I_loved_ you... Just know that. From the bottom of my heart I really did love you..."


	19. Segment XVIII: Innocent Silence

Disclaimer: What you the reader are about to read has been developed for the sole purpose of entertainment, and is by no means under ownership of Rubedo the Crystal Blood, this site, or any other enterprise through which this media may henceforth be displayed. All characters portrayed in this work of fiction have been created by Tite Kubo and are copyrighted by law. This fiction is subject to withdrawal at anytime via the express wishes of either the creator or publisher by which these characters are legally bound. This fiction is rated M for mature audiences indicated by the rating assigned by the author according to the rating table provided by this site, for mature themes, mild swearing, implicit and explicit content, and fantasy violence. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you agree not to hold this site and/or Rubedo the Crystal Blood responsible for any discomfort, disagreement, and otherwise dislike of this fiction. You also agree to adhere to any and all terms in the site TOS. This work is the product of the imagination of the author. Any and all similarities to real life situations are purely coincidental.

The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe

As of November 16, 2007, the following reference(s) are to be included for credit: the pillows; FLCL (USA); Furi Kuri (Japan); Geneon; Pioneer

* * *

"Why are you doing all of this...?"

Uryuu Ishida did not look at Orihime Inoue. No, he did not look up, even from his plate to hers. She had hardly eaten a single piece of the room-service dinner, issuing piercing glares each time he coaxed her to consume at least a little more. _The white wine really isn't that bad_, he decided, sipping his glass in yet another attempt urge her to at least finish a beverage. Her water glass was high with icy water, and coated with thick condensation from being untouched. There weren't even any hand marks indicating that a waiter had handled the object.

At last Orihime could take no more, and out of frustration stood up and fumed over towards the window. "Sit back down," Uryuu ordered her. "At the very least finish your food..." This time she was the one to ignore him. "There were never any rules that said you couldn't have a nice date with the player beforehand..."

"A_hotel_ is hardly what I'd call a date..."

"You're the one who dragged me over here. Or you could bore me and I'll end the game of my own free will..."

She stopped then, considering his words with little regard to the consequences. She did not want to stop playing the game. She was no longer flowing over, but now she no longer cared. Uryuu had taken all of her sanity away, and now held it captive in her hand, the way she wanted it to be. Better that he had it that for her to lose it. It was bad, yes, and it was an excuse, without a doubt, but it was true. In the end, she knew Uryuu was going to end their game. As soon as they finished having sex, he would tell her so himself. All the more reason not to dally. But he was being so unbearably difficult right now that all she really wanted for the moment was to just find someone else to latch on...

But Orihime sat down resignedly, neither willing to stay in this room and endure his mental sadism, nor leave it and forsake one final night of physical release. Uryuu was like a drug, she realized. It was quite the epiphany really, but normally the idea that a girl was physically and mentally unable to leave a boy had been impossible for her to grasp until only just now. But they must have all been addicted to him, every one of them.

She knew not their names, nor their faces, as Uryuu gentled eased her onto the wall and kissed her tenderly. It tingled, which was new, but then maybe she was just caught up in the moment. Now she was just another name on his list. Now she could say she was on the list of the biggest dork of players in the history of men who used women as objects. How strange that she regretted it now...

"You're not hurting me like you used to..." it was becoming harder now not to look into Uryuu eyes._ First rule..._ If she broke it the game would end then and there. Yet she was sure, if she had actually looked, that Uryuu was staring straight at her.

He seemed to be taunting her. Orihime's head rolled back reflexively to the evil strokes of his hand against her groin. Her waist edged up against his, searching for that hard lump and finding none present on his person. Curious, she reached around his back and tried to look down. But she was suddenly too embarrassed to do so. There it was... that sensation again... _Second innocence_...

Uryuu sensed that Orihime was getting well into the mood now. Her eyes bore a happy look, one that the expression on her face contrasted sharply. She seemed to be lost in though, unsure of how to react to this treatment: her body was on autopilot, and for once she was indulging in her pleasures, for the true meaning of what that really was. He was almost beginning to wish that he really did have feelings for Orihime now. It would be much more worth it all if he did...

_I'm drooling_, Orihime attempted to wipe away the saliva that was oozing down her lip, but her fingers were unresponsive. Without meaning to, she looked at Uryuu, who leaned forward and kissed her. Her lips parted completely, her teeth pulling his tongue towards her own. From the moment they touched she writhed in ecstatic pleasure. Their eyes were locked together in that way that could not be undone. _The first rule... he's... breaking it too..._

Now she was lying on the king mattress, hands tightly clenching the velvet folds of the crimson blankets and arms stretched outwards in a wanton position. Still she could not bear to look away from Uryuu, who slowly undressed her and leaned over her while she removed his shirt. She'd never noticed it before, but the muscles on his body really _were_ attractive. Not Ichigo's grace, but they were efficient as she knew quite well.

_Uryuu..._ she tried to cry it out, but found that she was too engrossed in the inner workings of his ability to tongue. Zealously she anchored her legs around his partially exposed waist and pulled it down. He groaned, and she felt his warm shaft press against her body. Clearly neither one could wait any longer. The tension had built to a point where, in moments in exploded into a rich passion.

Orihime's body cringed into a tight little ball, and she whimpered audibly._No... I can't... I can't cry..._ None of this could have been happening in real life. She never imagined that she would enjoy the game this much, and yet it all felt so... impersonal. Seeing Uryuu display such kindness filled her spirit with remorse. The man had nothing to gain from being so... gentlemanly.

It tingled... everything tingled. His fingers stroked her arm in a most provocative manner, and Orihime's arduous groans brought equal response to his spine. It was in lieu of this minor controversy that sparked the idea of a covering, a cloth of sorts to keep them warm. And so, in spite of all rational reasoning, Orihime pulled the covers across his smooth back, caressing Uryuu's skin all the while. Beneath the sheets her body heat built up so much so that she broke out into a spell of sweat.

Her mind was slowly fading away with each stroke. Each repetition brought evermore fragmented statements into her mind...

_I think I'm beginning to lose my mind... I think I'm losing my mind... I'm losing my mind... Losing my mind... I think... My mind... losing..._

_Ichigo_, she wanted to say. But a different name came out. _Ichigo_, she tried again, but her lips only formed two syllables before they stopped uncontrollably. Now the water was spilling over the edge. Her cup was overflowing, and her first response was to contact Uryuu. But Uryuu was here... remedying the problem. No! He was making it worse! But how...?

Now she could see it more clearly. There was a man holding the cup, staring at it. With all his strength he attempted to tip it, to spill out the liquid with his parched lips opened wide. The cup was herself, the water, her emotion... And this man... _Ichi_, she though she said. But again, this guess was wrong. The man was too dark... too burly... too different. _Who is he...? I forgot his name! It's a name I can't forget! I'm not supposed to! Wait, hang on! It's on the tip of my tongue!_

She screamed. Orihime Inoue screamed at the top of her lungs. She screamed with such fervor that she felt herself tear her vocal cords. As if her very skin were burning she emoted her pain to the world, her muscles spasming out of control, her head swirling insanely, and her nails digging deep and hard into her own arm. She bit down, unable to suppress the pulsating waves of pure voltage that wrought throughout her nerves. Around her the surroundings blinked back into existence, flickering with each and every quake.

Lying there, silent and stunned, Orihime was bathed in such pleasure that she could not even bring about a finger. There was no denying it. However many rules she'd broken, she didn't know, but there was no denying her cries or climax. For once, she felt full...

"I love you, Orihime..." The words brought her eyelids to open, surprisingly when she herself had been unable to on her own force of will. Uryuu was still staring her straight in the eyes. A few tears rolled down his cheek, and as they fell she tasted on upon her lip. It was bitter...

Very slowly, Uryuu crawled out of bed. Sighing, he dressed himself and tucked Orihime in, picking at a few of her leftovers. No thought crossed either of their minds. They were too heavy with the pleasures of lovemaking to think straight. As Uryuu opened the door, he turned to Orihime and muttered quietly, "Go where Sado is... I think you'll find happiness there..."

Silence, then...

"Game over..."

She wasn't sure if she had been the one to say it, or Uryuu. Very well was the possibility that they had said it in unison. "You're a bad liar," she said finally, before he shut the door behind him.

* * *

A/N: -Please note that upon the publishing of the following segment, this AN will be deleted-

Yeah, it really really sucked in terms of what lemons are, but it's necessary to take the story where I want to go. You're better off skipping to the end on this one, though I put the AN here so you'd read through the whole thing. Yeah, to explain:

-Uryuu doesn't love Orihime

-Orihime was saying Sado's name

-Orihime has fallen slightly in love with Uryuu

-They broke every single rule of the game


	20. Soon

Soon, VERY soon, I'll be bringing out ne material guys. I know it's been a while, so some of you may have stopped waiting, but I thank those who are still with me. I need a little more time. The problem hasn't been fixed, but I've found other outlets. Just remember that this isn't a permanent institution. I will have to stop again at some point. When I do I may not even be able to tell you. Sorry, but that's just how it is. Anyway, this little "complication" should be resolved soon enough. Look forward to it, cause Tatsuki and Ichigo in their shinigami forms are going to be revealed in the very last chapter.


End file.
